Antenora Smiles
by gryphalkon
Summary: GinxKira. If the devil had a smile, Ichimaru wore it. Kira was locked to this fearful path now, no retreat, no deviation. Ichimaru was his captain, and he had to obey. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: This is slash, yaoi, two men having sex. If that makes you uncomfortable, then please do not read. I don't wish to offend. **

**For the rest of you, please enjoy.**

**Pairing: **Ichimaru x Kira

**Rating: M **(Graphic sex, rape, violence, swearing)

**Length: **20,000+ (Complete)

**Summary: **Spanning Kira's lieutenancy from his instatement until three years after the current story, and the relationship that develops between Ichimaru and Kira.

**Note 1: **The terms for the shinigami garments are pulled from http: // paperiuni. livejournal. com/ 4516. html (remove the spaces). I am not a speaker of Japanese; therefore the terms I use may be wrong. I apologize in advance; I do the best I can.

**Note 2: **Antenora is the name given by Dante's Inferno to the 9th circle of hell reserved for traitors to homeland.

**Note 3: **English equivalents are used in the place of Japanese honorifics; the way certain characters refer to each other may change slightly according to this.

_A/N: This is my first M rated fic, my first slash fic, and also my first time writing both Kira and Ichimaru, that said, please be patient with me. This is unbetaed, mistakes in grammar and/or word choice may pop up. If you find any that you feel detract from the piece, please notify me. I am writing this for a friend's birthday, so this is dedicated to her. Happy 18__th__! Without further delay, enjoy. _

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**Antenora Smiles: **_Interlude, Part I_

…_What motives a man? What drives a man to betrayal? What drove _him_?…_

Tears splattered the page, blurring the carefully inked words. A shaft of late afternoon sunlight highlighted the paper, catching the slow tears as they fell. They soaked the page, glittering like tiny magnifying glasses of misery.

Kira Izuru let them slide down his face. He was alone, but he could still feel phantom arms wrapping around him, phantom lips brushing his neck.

…_I do not know how I came to love him, but I did…_

"I still do," it was barely more than a sigh. Kira raised a hand to his neck, trying to capture the memory of warm lips.

…_He remains my captain, my beloved, though he has left me to wander the halls of the Soul Society alone, to spend nights without his presence. I cannot blame him. I only wonder why – why he could not take me with him. In the end, I guess it really does not matter, it is all over now… _

He laid the pen aside and carefully closed the leather bound book; fingers caressed the cover before he deliberately slid it away from him. His eyes shone with unexpressed pain, windows to a far greater grief than could be expressed by tears. Blinking, he forced himself to swallow past the lump in his throat. Longingly he stared at the bed; sleep was the only refuge he had, a door into happier memories – dreams. His emotional anguish was almost a physical agony. It had been nearly three years since Ichimaru Gin had left him, and now he was back to die with Kira's heart.

Kira broke, tears became sobs. He hugged himself, recalling the feeling of Gin's arms.

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_The Beginning._

"Ya idiot, did ya really think we wouldn't find out sooner or later?" Renji's baritone shattered the calm of the small room. The room's sole occupant, sitting on the low futon, jerked and spun around. In the candle light, Kira Izuru's fine hair glinted like gold.

"But how?" wide doe eyes stared at Renji, "I barely just received it. The squad doesn't even know yet."

"Inside information," mischievous glint danced in Renji's face.

"You threatened the messenger, didn't you?" Kira said disapprovingly. The letter clutched tightly in one hand trembled slightly with suppressed nerves. The news of his promotion was too fresh for his brain to process properly.

"Bein' in 11th has its advantages," the glint spread into a roguish grin. "So how does it feel ta be a lieutenant?"

"I-I…," Kira fumbled for words. The tumble of emotions within him defied any attempt to define them, rushing over him in an overwhelming wave. He cast his eyes down, looking for some answer in the grain of the floor. He found none.

Renji's grin faltered a bit and he raised a questioning eyebrow. "Ya okay?"

"Just a little shocked," Kira waved the letter weakly, "I didn't expect it to be me, not as the fourth seat. I thought they would've transferred someone from another squad after we lost the lieutenant and the third seat."

"Don't start moping _Lieutenant_ Kira," Renji said, placing an emphasis on the new title, crossing his arms, "'cause we're gonna go celebrate."

Kira paled at the memories of his last hangover, clutching the letter more tightly. Renji's answer to everything was to get drunk; it was something that he never could understand about his friend. "I'm not sure that the best idea-"

Renji cut off him off with a snort, "Don't ya even try ta get outta this. Momo's already gone ta get people."

"But my first day as a lieutenant…," Kira protested, "Captain Ichimaru…"

"…will understand," Renji asserted, grabbing Kira by the arm and all but dragging him from his small room. Kira stumbled into the brighter light of the hall, blinking. Renji flashed him a smile and pulled him farther down into the noisy heart of the barracks. The members of the third streamed out of rooms to line the hall, smiling and cat-calling at their new lieutenant. Kira was wrong, they already knew.

Kira felt himself starting to blush, hanging his head to hide the spreading burn. He had never expected to be greeted this way by taciturn third. They passed through the door at the end of the corridor into the main common area of the squad barracks. There, among the sea of people, Kira could spot members of other squads, his friends from the academy, Hinamori, Hisagi, and other familiar faces. Renji shoved him forward into the arms of the group. Yelled congratulations rained down on him as he threaded his way blindly through the crowd. He stumbled under the press, he reached out a hand to steady himself, but it met only empty air. His knees slammed painfully onto the floor, and he cursed silently. Peripherally he was aware of the area around him clearing; a hush rippling out from the edges of the newly formed circle as people bent into low bows. There was only reason for that. Gulping, Kira looked upward into the smiling face of his captain, Ichimaru Gin.

Something cold shot through Kira's heart, squeezing it painfully. He could count the times on one hand that he had born Ichimaru's full attention. One of those occasions had been his rescue on that disastrous training mission. He had seen what his captain was capable of; he owed him his life for it, but he had to admit to an irrational fear of the man. He could never tell what was going on behind that sardonic smile, and it scared him. He tried to rearrange his thoughts into some coherent order, but Ichimaru started to speak, ripping through his efforts.

"Why Lieutenant, I had no idea you were so eager to serve me," inflection put layers of meaning on the words that Kira couldn't decipher, "throwing yourself at my feet."

A soft chuckle rose from a brave member of the third. Ichimaru's grin widened in response and the tension of the room broke, but not the tautly coiled strings of Kira's heart. He remained pinned by Ichimaru's scrutiny. "Captain," he ducked his head, hiding from those squinting eyes.

A hand moved into Kira's range of vision, long fingered and white, it hovered expectantly. "Get to your feet Lieutenant."

Kira hesitantly took the proffered hand, and Ichimaru pulled him up. Gaining his feet, he attempted to extract his hand from the slender, but powerful, fingers, but Ichimaru squeezed it painfully. He used his grip to pull Kira close, he leaned over and hissed softly in Kira's ear, "Congratulations…Lieutenant."

Those two words, whispered softly without any threat, scared Kira more than any army of hollows could. Ichimaru released him and Kira quickly backed away, dropping into a proper obeisance. The race of his heart pounded in his ears, ruthlessly driving the fear through his body with every beat. He chided himself, he had no reason to feel this; Ichimaru was a captain, he had saved Kira's life. Yet those squinting eyes, the sardonic smile, provoked something primal inside of him. His body screamed at him to run, to seek the concealing screen of the crowd. Yet he forced his body to remain, locked in that low bow, waiting for Ichimaru to act. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me yet." Ichimaru's feet, all that Kira could see of the man, turned away, tapping against the hard floor. The footsteps paused for a moment in the doorway. "I expect you to show up tomorrow, ready to work, after all."

Kira looked up, but his captain vanished in a swish of the white captain's haori before he could respond. Renji stepped into his field of vision, blocking his view of the door, wearing a huge grin. "See, that wasn't too bad."

Off balance, Kira nodded. Seeking out a quiet corner of the crowded room where he could collapse, Kira refused to meet Renji's eyes. He should be excited, but the prospect of facing the smiling captain again tomorrow was almost more than he could accept. He could finally understand why Renji answered everything with a sake bottle, he didn't have to accept it under the comforting haze of alcohol, didn't have to see those squinting eyes raking over his body. Turning to Renji, he croaked through a terror stricken throat, "Get me a drink."

Renji chuckled, "That's the spirit."

If only Renji's assessment was right, it wasn't a call for celebration, but rather a cry of desperation.

_F/N: Encouragement or critique is appreciated. Thank you. _

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	2. Chapter 2

**Pairing: **Ichimaru x Kira

**Rating: M **(Graphic sex, rape, violence, swearing)

**Length: **20,000+ (Complete)

**Update Frequency: **Weekly

**Summary: **Spanning Kira's lieutenancy from his instatement, until three years after the current story, and the relationship that develops between captain and lieutenant.

**Note 1: **The terms for the shinigami garments are pulled from http: // paperiuni. livejournal. com/ 4516. html (remove the spaces).

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any characters associated with it. The plot and original characters in Antenora Smiles I do own. **

_A/N: In this chapter the M rating starts to take effect, also the shortest chapter. I hope they balance each other out to some extent. Enjoy. _

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****Antenora Smiles**

_Two Months. _

The sound of the office door startled Kira. Light footsteps alerted him to who had entered his tiny office. He bent his head, redoubling his efforts at the paperwork before him, trying to appear busy. As an inexperienced lieutenant, the Captain still overawed him.

"Kira," the voice was unreadable, and Kira could not see his face. He sat with his back to the door, not that he would be able to read his captain's expression anyway.

"Captain, my sincerest apologies, I haven't finished the paperwork you requested yet," Kira scrambled out of his chair and into a full prostration at Ichimaru's feet, seeking protection in the ordinary interactions between captain and lieutenant. He didn't dare glance up at his Captain's face, afraid he would see anger there.

"I don't want the paperwork, Izuru." Startled, Kira looked up at the use of his first name, trying to discern Ichimaru's expression, but the man was obscured in the shadow of the doorway. "I want you."

"Captain?" Kira flushed, hoping he had misheard, or at least misunderstood.

Ichimaru stepped out of the doorway, and Kira saw that his was impassive, without the sardonic grin. "Izuru, come here," he commanded coldly. It was a voice not to be disobeyed. Kira reluctantly stood and moved within arm's reach of his captain. Scrunching his eyes shut, he could feel his cheeks burning in embarrassment. A finger traced the curve of his jaw, "You blush so easily. You have such fair skin my puzzle."

The white haired man snagged the room's sole chair from behind Kira, placing it by his lieutenant. "Sit," again a command.

Like a whipped dog, Kira collapsed into the chair. He could feel his knees quaking. This close, he could smell the scent of sandalwood and fresh cut grass coming from Ichimaru's haori. Sitting, he was level with his Captain's chest; could see the steady rise and fall of his breath. Blood rushed to his already flushed face. Ichimaru reached down and cupped Kira's cheek with his hand, the other twined into the blonde's hair.

"Captain, please," Kira pleaded, jerking away from the hand as if burned, "I have to finish."

Ichimaru grinned and his hand tightened its grip Kira's hair, digging into scalp, "No, Izuru," he bent, bringing his face close to his lieutenant's terrified eyes, "You are _mine_ and it's time you learned that."

Kira whimpered, slipping down in the chair, trying to escape his Captain's proximity. The chair toppled sideways, spilling Kira onto the floor. He scuttled backwards to the wall, stopping only when his back was pressed against it. Ichimaru advanced like a stalking cat, in response Kira shrunk in on himself. Terror clouded his mind, making thought difficult, but one thought burned through the haze, he had to get away.

"Please, Captain Ichimaru," the petrified lieutenant begged, holding his knees protectively against his chest. "_Please_."

The distance between them had shrunk to an arm's length as Ichimaru kneeled next to him. Kira turned his head away, unable to look at Ichimaru. A rough hand forced his face upward; dry lips pressed themselves against his. Kira's heart fluttered, he squeezed his eyes shut, willing for a sane reality to reassert itself. A tongue ran along his lower lip, teasing at it. His hands skittered across the floor, seeking a physical anchor, his body thrummed with unfamiliar sensations. Teeth tugged at his bottom lip and then bit down, drawing blood. Kira gasped, tasting the iron tang of blood. The tongue slipped inside his open mouth, exploring and provoking a slow burn inside of Kira.

Ichimaru's free hand pulled at the knot of Kira's obi, but the tight knot refused to yield. Instead, his hand slid inside the shitagi, cold hand again warm skin. It ranged over Kira's chest, sliding lower and lower. Kira shivered involuntarily, he was immobilized by warring feelings of his body. The tongue continued to explore the inside of his mouth, while the Ichimaru's hand strayed into dangerous territory.

Ichimaru broke off the kiss, his mouth moving down Kira's neck, nipping at the skin. His hand strayed below the waist of Kira's hakama, still achingly cold. Kira began to pant, drawing short shallow breaths. The blonde shuddered as long fingers wrapped around him, squeezing gently. Blood rushed from his face at the new feeling, his body betraying him. He hardened in Ichimaru's skillful hand, leaking into his hakama.

"So you do like it, Izuru," Ichimaru whispered into Kira's ear. He playfully nibbled on the earlobe, drawing a moan from his lieutenant. A strong arm pulled Kira into his lap, fingers continuing their rhythmic ministrations. With his free hand he twisted Kira's mouth again to his, sucking cruelly on the injured lips, bruised with the forced of his earlier kiss. Blood flowed freely into both mouths, coating their lips in crimson.

Ceaseless fingers brought Kira to the edge of climax and held him there teasingly, squeezing and rubbing along his engorged length. All thought was driven out of his head, replaced by endless waves of indefinable feeling. Finally, even skill could not keep him from spilling into his hakama in a rush of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

Overwhelmed, Kira collapsed in his captain's arms, sucking desperately for air. Ichimaru cradled him against his chest, stroking Kira's hair. Sweat beaded on Kira's forehead, and he started to shudder uncontrollably. Blindly, he sought comfort in the rough fabric of the haori. Ichimaru bent his white head and murmured, "Remember Izuru, you are mine and mine alone."

He stood, letting Kira tumble unceremoniously from his lap. The lieutenant sprawled loosely on the floor, before curling into a fetal ball. Glazed eyes looked up at Ichimaru, uncomprehending, "Why?"

"I'll let you figure that out Izuru, you're a smart boy," the sardonic grin widened, "I want that paperwork done before tomorrow morning. Goodnight Kira." He swept out of the room.

Minutes passed and Kira tentatively licked is swollen lips, tasting blood. In a few short moments his world had been torn apart and rearranged in an entirely unfamiliar pattern. Straightening his robes, he glanced guiltily at the wet spot spreading from his crotch. The emotions that his captain had raised were entirely unfamiliar, yet he burned with raw need. He was no virgin; he had loved and coupled before, but nothing like this. None of them had come even close to what he had felt at Ichimaru's hands. Those cold hands had become the new center of his shattered being. Even now he could feel his body reacting to the memory.

He righted the chair and pulled himself up into it, still shaking. Paperwork was out of reach on the desk but he couldn't focus right now. Thoughts ran rampant through his head. Why had his captain done this? No one understood Ichimaru Gin, let alone himself. The man was an enigma at the heart of a mystery, his motivations hidden behind his squinting eyes and mocking smile. But his action had moved outside of what Kira had expected of him, carefully drawn lines between captain and lieutenant had been crossed. Ichimaru had said that Kira would figure it out, but all his captain had given him was a jumble of new emotions and hissed claim on his being. Kira was his, he had made that plain. Kira felt a sick knot growing in his stomach, was that the reason why? Was this just some twisted way to play with his loyalties and make clear Captain Ichimaru's control over him? If that was the case, he had succeeded, Ichimaru's ownership was marked in his bloodied lips and bruising skin.

Kira bowed his head; exhaustion eating him at the core of his being. He couldn't bring himself to care at this point. The dawn was too near and several hours of paperwork stood between him and his bed. He wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight if he wanted to do as his captain commanded; if anything was sure in his shaken universe, it was that he did not want Ichimaru angry at him.­­

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_F/N: Encouragement or critique is appreciated. Thank you. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Pairing: **Ichimaru x Kira

**Rating: M **(Graphic sex, rape, violence, swearing)

**Length: **20,000+ (Complete)

**Update Frequency: **Weekly

**Summary: **Spanning Kira's lieutenancy from his instatement, until three years after the current story, and the relationship that develops between captain and lieutenant.

**Note 1: **The terms for the shinigami garments are pulled from http: // paperiuni. livejournal. com/ 4516. html (remove the spaces).

**Note 2: "**Ahondara" means, at least according to my English-Japanese dictionary, "fool"

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any characters associated with it. The plot and original characters in Antenora Smiles I do own. **

_A/N: This fic is a character sketch primarily, but I couldn't help tossing in references to Aizen's early experimentation. On another note, I choose not to include Ichimaru's regional dialect because I am unfamiliar writing it. Renji's regional dialect I included because that is how I have written him in the past. I hope that clears up a few things. Thanks as well for the reviews, alerts, an favorities, they really are the fuel for writing. I appreciate them to no end. Enjoy the (roughly) regular chapter length from now on. _

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**Antenora Smiles**

_Three Months._

It was one of the rare days of fall where summer still made it presence felt. Late afternoon sunlight weakly slanted down through the trees, highlighting the dust on the stones of the courtyard. Kira Izuru let his head fall back against the trunk, watching the clouds scuttle across the sky, racing each other to the ends of the heavens. The lieutenant badge still felt awkward on his arm, self-consciously he fiddled with it. He almost couldn't believe he had been a lieutenant for three months; it had passed in a haze of paperwork and – he forced himself to continue the though – and _him_.

His gut clenched and the magic of the day was broken. Captain Ichimaru and his mocking grin haunted his waking and sleeping hours. Kira had endlessly turned the situation over in his mind, but his captain remained an enigma. Sporadically, he visited Kira in the late hours of the night as Kira did paperwork in his office. The events of the first night would repeat themselves, Ichimaru insisting that Kira was _his_. Otherwise Captain Ichimaru acted coolly towards him when they interacted around others. Kira could almost believe it was a bizarre dream except that his heart fluttered with excitement each time he saw Ichimaru.

Kira clambered to his feet, smoothing his dust coated clothing. He had promised Momo and Renji that he would meet them for an early dinner. Silently, he slid open the half-door and entered the warren of halls and offices that made up the 3rd Squad's offices. It was deserted, a precious day of rest for the entire thirteen divisions. The silence was comforting as he padded down the halls to the exit. Left alone with his own thoughts, he was surprised to hear his name called from a side corridor.

"Kira," a thin form moved to block his path.

"Captain, what are you doing here?" Kira placed a confining hand on his thumping heart.

"I had a meeting with Captain Aizen," Ichimaru inclined his head back towards his office, "And why are you here?"

"Paperwork I needed to finish up," Kira explained hastily. The light of the exit was only a few short feet behind Ichimaru. "I'm headed to meet some friends for dinner, please excuse me Captain." He could feel tension creeping into his frame, as much as possible he avoided being alone with Ichimaru. He was acutely aware that in the deserted office building no one could hear him scream, either in pleasure or pain.

Ichimaru let the professional air of captaincy slip from his shoulders, smile widening. "So eager to escape me Izuru?" Ichimaru purred, closing the gap between them. A soft cough made him freeze, smile compressing in annoyance.

Aizen Sousuke, leaning against the corner of a corridor, chuckled quietly, "Excuse me Gin, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Never," Ichimaru spun and bowed slightly, "I'm ever yours."

Kira retreated slightly, breathing a sigh of relief at the unexpected reprieve. He tried to maneuver unnoticed past the two captains, but Ichimaru, without looking back, grabbed his wrist sharply as he began to move, trapping him in the hall.

The two captains stared at each other, as if sharing a private joke. Aizen smiled briefly, "I had some more matters that I would like to discuss with you, if I may."

Ichimaru arched a questioning eyebrow, "So soon? Have things changed that fast?"

"In a matter of speaking, yes," Aizen said sourly, "though not for the better."

"Some days I think that you're doomed to fail," Ichimaru smirked, "Very well. What happened?"

"It escaped the binding," Aizen wore a pronounced frown.

"Ahh," Ichimaru chuckled appreciatively, "it must be stronger than you thought. What are you going to do about it?"

"I just sent Lieutenant Ahondara after it."

"You're sure that's a good idea?" Ichimaru asked, all trace of laughter gone. "You can trust him?"

"Do not question me Gin," something cruel sparkled in Aizen's eyes, "You know I don't trust him; he thinks he's hunting a Menos."

The entire conversation was wrong. Aizen was deceiving his lieutenant in some way. Kira couldn't bring himself to interrupt, not with Ichimaru there, but the whole exchange made him uncomfortable. He shifted his weight slightly; the movement reminding them of his continued presence.

Aizen directed his attention at Kira, "Lieutenant Kira; it's best if you leave us."

"Yes sir," Kira bowed his head, still trapped in Ichimaru's grip.

"Kira," Ichimaru said, squeezing the bones in Kira's wrist painfully, "you shouldn't repeat what you heard here, you know the consequences if you do." He relinquished his hold on Kira, who retreated down the hall several paces, rubbing the sore joint.

"Yes Captain," Kira flinched at the memory of greater pain, and slid out into the cool afternoon air. Curiosity wasn't a reaction to these events anymore, only trepidation. For as many times that Ichimaru caused Kira pleasure there was an equal number of painful memories. Casual slaps and more humiliating agony had taught Kira to tread carefully around his captain.

Kira stepped onto the street, a dead end hedged in between tall walls. The sunlight was stronger here, warming his back as he walked east to the heart of the Seireitei. In a similar dead end, shabbier and darker, was hidden a little known tavern with some of the best sake of the Soul Society. It was there that Kira, Momo, and Renji had agreed to meet. A feeling of reluctance stole over Kira as he wound his way through deserted streets. Lately he felt more and more like his sword, a miserable man, emotionally he was exhausted. The prospect of fending off the curious Momo and Renji wasn't a pleasant one. He could always plead more paperwork. Mentally, he kicked himself. These were his friends, and they deserved better.

The streets became more and more populated; singles and groups starting an early evening of celebration before heading back to work in the morn. Kira hugged the edge of the street, not responding as people shouted greetings. Despite the warm sun on his back he shivered, expecting a blow that never came. In some ways, paperwork was easier than dealing with people.

With a sigh of relief he rounded the last corner, the sign of the tavern swinging welcomingly. The door was creaking shut as he reached it; shouldering it open, he entered the dimly lit tavern. He scanned the sparse crowd for the familiar blaze of red hair. Finally he spotted it, bent over a table in the far corner. Feet automatically snaked around the low tables in a routine path. He sank down next to Renji, snatching a cup from the center of the table before Renji noticed him.

"Kira, ya made it," Renji handed him a half full bottle to go with his cup.

He poured himself a small cup of the clear liquid. "Lost track of time," he said by way of excuse.

"Well, you're not the only one ta be late. Momo still hasn't arrived," Renji said.

Kira glanced up sharply, the conversation between Aizen and Ichimaru coming to mind. "Something going on the 5th?"

"No idea. 11th squad isn't the best at stayin' up ta date," Renji shrugged, toying with his sake, "Can't be too serious; a general alert hasn't been called."

"Suppose you're right." From the depths of his drink a scared pale face gazed back at him. "How's life in the 11th?"

Renji grinned, "Captain Kenpachi keeps sendin' half of the 11th to be treated by the 4th every time he holds one of his 'sparrin' sessions'. So far I've manage ta avoid most of them. I've also started trainin' with Ikkaku, the 3rd seat." He added hopefully, "Shouldn't be too long till I'm a lieutenant."

"I'm sure you're not missing much, Renji, just a lot of paperwork," said a gentle voice.

"Momo!" Kira smiled up at the diminutive shinigami.

"Sorry," she sat, her face flushed, "I had to deal with a minor emergency."

"Nothing bad?" Renji asked as Kira blanched, hiding his face behind the fall of his bangs. He reflexively rubbed his bruising wrist. This was not a conversation he wanted part in.

"Lieutenant Ahondara is taking care of it," Momo offered, taking the last cup from the center of the table, "I just barely got off; the entire squad is in chaos. No one knows exactly what is going on."

Kira diverted the subject, "I've had enough of Soul Society business for the day."

"You can say that again," Momo agreed wearily.

The moved onto other subject and the evening passed in a cheery haze of sake and companionship. Izuru felt himself slowly relaxing in the presence of his friends and liberal doses of alcohol. The shadow of his Captain faded as the night wore on, and Kira felt himself smiling for the first time in almost a month.

"So ya know the lieutenant of the 11th, the tiny thin', Yachiru. She 'parently likes ta nibble on Ikkaku's head," Renji chuckled drunkenly, "It's the funniest thin' I've seen."

"Can't be! What 'bout that time in the 'cademy when you blew yourself up first time you tried 'idou?" Kira protested good-naturedly, "I don't 'ink there could be anythin' funnier than 'at."

"Momo, what do ya think?" Renji asked.

"I'd have to agree with Kira," Momo said, trying to stifle her giggles, "Your hair for the next week looked like a bird had made a nest in it."

"Oh shut up," Renji said without any real venom. Raising arms in a stretch, he yawned. "I think I gotta turn in for the night. Ikkaku's gonna run me 'ard tomorrow."

"As should I, Captain Aizen will need all the help he can get in the morning," Momo glowed warmly as she spoke of her captain.

"Gah," Kira moaned, "You're all ditchin' me."

"I'm sure Captain Ichimaru will appreciate your sober presence tomorrow," Momo reproved him gently.

A chill reached down Kira's spine, fear scratching at the corners of his brain. "I d-don't wanna be sober," he stuttered.

"'fraid of all the work he's gonna give ya?" Renji said teasingly as he stood.

"N-no," Kira forced himself to stop shivering, pulling his face into a mask of composure, "Never mind. It was good to see you guys. I'll see you 'round." Hesitating, he fiddled with an empty bottle, waiting for his friends to leave.

"Your actin' weird, Izuru," Renji groaned at he sank back down. "What's up?"

"'m tired," Kira muttered.

"Tired and crazy more like," Renji sighed. "I take it back, I don't wanna be a lieutenant if it turns ya into a moody bastard."

"Renji!" Momo said, aghast.

"'m not a moody bastard," Kira objected, "'m drunk, there's a difference."

"Have it your way, I'm gonna go though if you're not gonna tell me," Renji levered himself to his feet. "Ya comin' Momo?"

"Kira…," she said pleadingly.

"It's nothin'," he asserted, "I'm just tired 'nd drunk. I'll see you guys later."

Momo rose reluctantly, "See you around Kira." She hesitated, "You know we're always here for you, right?"

"Yeah," Kira didn't stop inspecting the empty bottle in its minutiae.

Momo followed Renji as they moved across the tavern floor, shooting a worried glance back at Kira. He ignored her, lost in thought. Ichimaru Gin, _Captain_ Ichimaru Gin, and his cold hands, how could they provoke such a feeling in him? Where had he gone wrong? He certainly wasn't going to find the answer in the surface of a sake bottle, nor would it probably be found anywhere else. Damn the captain for being such an enigma. Those nightly visits remained just as much a mystery as ever, despite the hours Kira spent in thought.

He was surprised to find tears welling in his eyes, big fat drops carving meandering paths down his cheeks. Melancholy and apathetic, he let them fall. The tavern was all but deserted in this hour of the night, as a regular customer the staff wouldn't disturb him until closing time; it was as good as any place to let them fall.

"Hey pretty boy, whatcha cryin' 'bout?" a particularly drunk member of the clientele said, staggering over to sit at Kira's deserted table.

"Go away," Kira said weakly, unable to muster the proper scathing tone. In the background he heard the tavern door creak open, but he didn't see who entered, his attention solely occupied by the drunkard before him.

"Loose yer boyfriend?" the man, slid closer to Kira. He reeked of alcohol, Kira's lip curled instinctively at the stench. The man wrapped a heavy arm around him possessively, "'Cause if yer lonely, I can fix that."

Kira jerked at the contact, feeling another, thinner arm in his imagination. He whimpered and scuttled backwards until his retreat was blocked by a heavy table. "Don't touch me!"

"Oh, yer damaged goods," the man smiled cruelly, "I like 'em that way."

"If you continue behaving that way towards my lieutenant, I'm afraid that you might not have enough body left to like anything," a cool voice said.

Kira's heart leapt at the familiar voice, relief mingled with fear rushed through him, "Captain!"

Ichimaru Gin stood, dressed in a plain haori, conspicuously missing the signs of captaincy. He wore his habitual smiling expression but a hint of something else danced behind it, impossible to read. Shinsou rested lightly on his hip, in plain view.

"Lieutenant, be silent while I deal with this," Ichimaru commanded levelly. His eyes never left the man in front of him.

The cruel smile widened, "So yer his boyfriend. How touchin', rescuin' yer pretty boy are ya?"

"Izuru is _mine_," Ichimaru hissed, "and mine alone. You shouldn't have touched him."

"Pah, whatcha gonna do to me?" the man spat, clenching his fists lazily. He was several inches taller and heavier than the slender captain; by his side lay a stout oaken staff, the scars along its length attesting to its use as a weapon.

"You don't want to know," Ichimaru's mocking smile widened and red eyes glinted.

"Captain, please don't do this," Kira begged. He could already see the blood in mind's eye, spilling red, so red, across the dirty floor. This man stood no chance against Ichimaru.

"You hear that? My lieutenant is asking me to spare you. Personally, I think he's far too compassionate." Shinsou flicked from its sheath, hovering over the startled man's throat. "I don't think I will."

The man gulped, the hovering tip of the sword nicking his adams apple. "Who are ya?"

Ichimaru chuckled, "Kira, why don't you tell him."

"H-He's Captain Ichimaru Gin of 3rd squad," Kira choked out.

"Yer a fuckin' _captain_?" the man blanched, "I'm sorry I didn't mean anythin', I was just tryin' ta have some fun. Honest."

"Too late," the 3rd squad captain said, pulling Shinsou back for the finishing blow. At the apex of the swing it was stopped by two desperate hands blocking the blade's descent. A shudder ran through Kira's body as he struggled to stop the death blow. Ichimaru's face twisted quickly before settling back into its impassive mask.

"Please, don't do this," the blonde implored, blood dripping from his palms where Shinsou had sliced them open, "He didn't do anything."

"He touched you," Ichimaru said simply, reaching out from Shinsou's hilt to trace Kira's cheek with a light caress, "That is enough. Did you forget, Izuru, that you belong to me? If you wanted him to live you shouldn't have let him touch you in the first place."

"What do I need to do to get you to let him live?" Kira asked desperately, letting his hands drop to his sides. The pain was nothing, nothing compared to storm roiling inside of him.

"Tell me the answer to the question," Ichimaru said cryptically, another emotion filtering through his normal grin and squinted eyes.

"What question?" Kira yelled, confused and desperate. He cast his mind back over the last few months seeking an answer, something, _anything_.

"Why Izuru, is your memory really that bad? Don't you remember what you asked me that night?"

Cold certainty settled around Kira, and something solid established itself in his gut. "Why," he whispered; a statement not a question. The same question that had haunted his dreams, every waking moment, a hovering miasma.

"The answer, Kira, or this man dies," Ichimaru stepped past him, the sword once again resting at the man's throat.

"But I don't know!" Kira cried in despair.

"Wrong answer," Ichimaru said.

Kira looked away, hearing only the crunch of blade through bone and the thump of a lifeless body falling to the floor. His gorge rose and he spilled the contents of his stomach onto the blood drenched floor. Bending over and spitting weakly to clear his mouth of the acrid taste, he felt a hand rest in the small of his back, rubbing in soothing circles. "Shhh, Izuru," Ichimaru murmured.

"Get off me," Kira said feebly, terrified as the words came out of his mouth. "You j-just k-killed him and you expect me to let you t-touch me," the words came flooding out, the pent up confusion and helplessness of the last months. "Get off me, you f-fucking _bastard_," his voice was stronger but the terror still coursed deep within him.

Strong arms pulled him upright by the back of his kosode and spun him around. He was almost lifted off the floor as Ichimaru wrenched Kira up to his face. The smile was thin, terrifying. "Never, Kira, speak to me that way again. If you do, I _will_ kill you," he said with deadly seriousness. "Do you understand?"

Kira could only nod mutely, liquid insides freezing in fear. He had no doubt that Ichimaru spoke the unadulterated truth. Ichimaru released him, letting him crumple to the floor. All traces of alcohol were gone, there was no comforting haze to hide behind, to delude himself into thinking this hadn't happened. Fear and pain were his existence now, meted out by his hoary haired captain.

"Get up," Ichimaru ordered, "We're leaving." He swept out of the empty tavern without waiting to see if Kira followed him. Kira struggled to his feet, ignoring the pitying glance of the barkeep. Trembling he shuffled to the door, he was locked to this fearful path now, no retreat, no deviation. Ichimaru was his captain, and he had to obey.

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_F/N: Encouragement or critique is appreciated. Thank you. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Pairing: **Ichimaru x Kira

**Rating: M **(Graphic sex, rape, violence, swearing)

**Length: **20,000+ (Complete)

**Update Frequency: **Weekly

**Summary: **Spanning Kira's lieutenancy from his instatement, until three years after the current story, and the relationship that develops between captain and lieutenant.

**Note 1: **The terms for the shinigami garments are pulled from http: // paperiuni. livejournal. com/ 4516. html (remove the spaces).

**Note 2: **Tsuki was kind enough to correct Ichimaru's eye color from red to blue. From what research I've managed to do, his manga eye color is definitely blue, but the anime portrayed it as red before that information came out. I'm going to keep it red because ultimately the person this was written for prefers that color, though I normally use the manga information as the final trump card. Hope that clears some things up.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any characters associated with it. The plot and original characters in Antenora Smiles I do own. **

_A/N: Heading out to Utah tomorrow so had to post early, such a hardship for you all. Thank you for the reviews, alerts, and favorites on the last chapter, can't express how much they mean to me, especially those who took the time to let me know in a review. Thank you. And finally, enjoy!_

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**Antenora Smiles**

_Four Months, Part I._

"Lieutenant," a voice pierced his fog shrouded mind, "Lieutenant Kira, sir."

He raised his head from the drool stained paper, his neck protesting at the angle it had spent the night. Another night spent at the office, paperwork as his pillow. Bright morning sunlight made him squint to make out the figure before him. "Huh?" he eloquently responded.

"Sir, I apologize for waking you," a diminutive woman, the 12th seat, said.

"No, s'okay," he mumbled, rubbing aching eyes, "What is it?"

"We can't find the Captain Ichimaru anywhere, sir," the woman said frankly.

A jolt woke Kira the rest of the way; he frowned at the little flutter of his heart at his captain's name. "You're sure he isn't at the captains' meeting? And you've checked all his normal haunts?"

"Yes, sir," she added quickly, "We wouldn't have woken you otherwise."

"Has someone checked his home?" Kira asked with growing trepidation.

"No, we felt it was inappropriate-"

Kira cut her off, "It's fine. Is there any pressing matters that I need to attend to?"

"There's the lieutenants' meeting at five, sir, but that's hardly pressing," she gave him a small smile which he returned.

"Good, you may go," Kira breathed a heavy sigh as soon as her back vanished from the doorway. His heart was pounding at the thought of visiting Ichimaru's home. Since the evening in the bar almost a month ago Ichimaru and Kira had exchanged only a bare minimum of words. He had also ceased his nocturnal visits. This would be the first time Kira sought his presence since that night.

Rising from his chair, he stretched. He wasn't even two hundred and already he felt like a man of Yamamoto's age. Joints popped and he groaned quietly at the sensation. Counting roughly, the last time he had risen from his desk was over twenty hours ago, and his body was making him pay for it.

Kira didn't waste time meandering down the streets of the Seireitei, instead shunpouing to the neighborhood in which he knew Ichimaru dwelled. It was an upper class neighborhood, quiet to the point where Kira almost could imagine the residents were dead. The houses were low slung affairs, modest but still spacious enough for a small family. Ichimaru lived at the end of narrow side street, his house the only one on it. The house claimed a large garden, barred by a tall wall and gate, which encircled the rest of the house as well. Kira extended his senses towards the home, trying to discern Ichimaru's location; he was more than familiar with his captain's reiatsu.

The beacon of spiritual pressure blazed in his senses, Ichimaru was most assuredly inside the house. Hesitantly he approached the gate; it swung open at his gentle touch. Inside verdant flowers threatened to overwhelm his nose and eyes. The garden was a riot of color, flowers in all states of blooms despite the dying autumn. The tiles steamed beneath his feet, apparently heated against the late autumnal chill. He carefully threaded his way through the garden, taking care not to brush against the flowers. The door emerged out of the concealing greenery, Kira knocked tentatively on the wooden surface. Like the gate, it swung open at his touch. He moved inside the door, into a darkened hall. "Captain Ichimaru?" he called.

"Here," Ichimaru responded from the depths of the house. Kira slipped off his sandals, sock feet padding on the tile floor of the entry. The hall was spartan, white walls and floor that drew him deeper into the building. At the end a sliding door stood partially ajar, Kira slid through the door and into light.

He had to stifle a gasp, the room was spacious, stretching the width of the house, and windows lined the far wall, looking out onto the garden and a small pond. The same morning sunlight that had blinded him earlier was muted by the greenery, but it still streamed into the room. What caused Kira to gasp was the glass; it hung from every available surface, prisms that broke the light into rainbows of color. When he entered, he immediately became part of the multi-hued dreamscape. The glass itself was all different shades as well, tinkling against each other in a way pleasing to eye and ear. The only other furnishing in the room besides the hanging glass was a mat spread in the center of the room. On the mat, with his back to Kira, lounged Ichimaru, dressed in a white haori, over a plain outfit, on which danced the broken light. Next to him lay folded his captain's haori.

"Kira, join me," Ichimaru patted the mat beside him without turning around.

"Captain Ichimaru, the squad was upset when you failed to show up this morning," Kira said stiffly from his spot near the door.

"Ah Izuru, must you always reduce things to rank and paperwork?" Ichimaru heaved a sigh. "If you must be that way, then this is an order. Come here and join me."

"As you wish Captain," he settled himself, cross-legged, as far from Ichimaru on the mat as possible. A silence fell over the two men, one that Kira made no attempt to end. He busied himself in watching the play of light over his hands. What ever purpose Ichimaru had here, it was one Kira wanted no part in.

Ichimaru lay down, head landing inches from Kira's thigh. He pillowed his head on an arm and for all appearances fell asleep, sardonic smile still in place. After a moment he spoke, shattering the illusion, "Izuru, have you ever just listened?"

This was the last thing Kira expected to be asked, he took a moment to answer, "Not since I was a child, sir."

"Laying here I can hear you breathe," Ichimaru said softly, "and if I listen hard enough I can even hear your heart beat. You're afraid, aren't you Izuru?"

"Yes," Kira whispered, watching as the palm of his hand turned red, like blood.

"You're afraid of me."

"Yes," Kira repeated, fear making his voice quiver.

"Why?" Ichimaru sounded honestly curious.

Kira floundered for words, "Because…because I don't understand you. You hide behind your smile. You smile when you make me ache with pleasure, but you also smile when you…," he faltered, "…when you make me scream in pain."

"Would you prefer it if I didn't smile?"

"No," Kira said quickly, the words spilling out without thought, "because if you stopped smiling, I wouldn't know you at all."

Ichimaru chuckled, "You are interesting Izuru. I find you somewhat of a challenge."

Silence found its way between them again, a heavy fat silence. It made Kira excruciatingly aware of his captain's proximity. He could feel the heat emanating from the white crowned head, and now that he listened, hear the rise and fall of his breath. Tentatively he reached out to touch one of the hoary locks that fell over Ichimaru's forehead; it was smooth under his fingertip, like silk. He jerked his hand away, as if burned. Ichimaru didn't react to the touch, merely lying, seemingly asleep. Again, he reached out, this time brushing the lock away from Ichimaru's forehead, revealing the closed eyes. He let his hand linger, touching the cool skin. He started to pull his hand away but Ichimaru's hand shot up and grabbed his wrist. Panic set in chest and his fluttering heart fanned it into flames at the simple action. He struggled to disengage the hand around his wrist, but the slender fingers were gripped too tightly. "Please, Captain, let go." The fear left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Izuru, calm down." Ichimaru released his wrist; Kira cradled it to his chest protectively. "I promise you, I won't hurt you right now."

"That's the problem, Captain, right now you can, but once we leave…can you still promise me that?" Kira pulled his legs up and curled into a small ball, rocking himself.

"Got me there," Ichimaru admitted with a small chuckle.

"Then please, just leave me alone." Kira buried his head in his knees.

"I can't do that," Ichimaru sat up, taking off his white haori, he wrapped it around the shaking Kira, "But I can promise for the moment that I won't hurt you."

"Without proof," Kira muttered, "that promise means nothing, Captain."

Long arms encircled him, and Ichimaru's whispered breath tickled his ear, "I can give you proof if you let me." Kira froze in his grip, the ball of panic staring to form in his chest again. He was acutely conscious of the strength of those slender arms, arms that embraced him rather than demanded. Ichimaru had already taken from Kira all that he asked for, taken in that night long months ago. Whatever came from this day, it couldn't be worst than the days that preceded it, Kira was certain of that. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax into Ichimaru's hold. The captain paused, "This is what you want?"

Kira murmured, "You are my captain, I do as you command."

Ichimaru released him, moving until he knelt in front of Kira, looking him levelly in the eye, "I don't command. You're my puzzle Izuru; to force you would ruin the fun of it."

Kira swallowed, some inner urge forcing him to voice the words, "Then it's what I want."

Ichimaru nodded and rose to his feet. Silently, bare feet on wood, he exited the room. Kira loosened himself from the ball and sprawled across the mat; the emotions of the last few moments had exhausted him. A strange excitement thrummed within him in contrast to his panic ridden soul. He let his eyes slip closed; he could still see the lights of the room through his eyelids, all hues. He lay there, mind blank, time passing uncounted. A foot nudging him caused his eyes to fly open, above him stood Ichimaru, dressed in nothing but the standard hakama; in his hands he held a small jar. "You awake?"

"Yes," Kira heaved himself into a sitting position. He could feel a blush spread across his face as his eyes traversed the pale expanse of his captain's exposed chest; the lean muscle was ribbed with even paler scars, faint shadows of white hairs as Kira's gaze moved lower.

"You do look so adorable when you blush, Izuru." Ichimaru's sardonic grin widened as Kira's blush grew deeper. He knelt, straddling Kira's splayed legs, and he placed the jar off to one side carefully. Hands free, he threaded them into blonde hair, pulling Kira's lips to his. The kiss was gentle, unlike the fierce one he usually gave. Kira, in turn wrapped his arms around Ichimaru chest, clasping him close. Ichimaru's tongue traced Kira's lips, asking for entrance, he obeyed eagerly, intoxicated by the sweep of tongue. He melted into Ichimaru, until the only thing that kept them separate individuals was their skin and his thin layer of clothes.

Ichimaru disengaged from the kiss, tugging on Kira's bottom lip with his teeth as they parted. "Clothes, Izuru, I assume you would rather keep them in one piece."

Kira was suddenly aware of just how confining the loose shitagi and kosode felt, sweat had already stuck them to his body, and they clung uncomfortably to him. Bending a blushing face, he began to work at the knot that kept the whole ensemble closed. His fingers fumbled at it, unable to undo it. "Can't."

Ichimaru's patience ran out, he grabbed the obi and tore; it parted in a rip of fabric. He quickly divested Kira of the rest the gi, until he was dressed in nothing but the hakama, loosely gathered around his hips. No longer tied, it slid down, revealing the long curve of a lean hip and the upper edge of Kira's fundoshi. That accomplished, he pulled Kira back to him, mouths meeting in a savage kiss. Slowly it softened, and Ichimaru began to explore other parts of Kira's body with his clever tongue. Using his mouth he smoothed the premature lines gracing Kira's face, and explored Kira's ear with a probing tongue. Kira gasped, startled as it traced the curves of his ear. He began to move lower, nipping at Kira's tender nipples, producing an incoherent moan from the blonde. The lower Ichimaru progressed, the more uncomfortable the fabric of Kira's fundoshi became, tightening across his engorged groin.

"Can I try?" Kira asked shyly, fortunately his blood was busy elsewhere or his blush would have extended the entire expanse of his upper body.

"Hmm?" Ichimaru questioned wordlessly; his mouth busy exploring the dusky hair emerging from above Kira's hakama.

"Can I-," his voice faded into a moan as Ichimaru ran a tongue along his midline from his groin to his collarbone, "-try?"

"Only if you're a good boy and let me do this," a hand slipped down to cradle Kira's aching scrotum. Ichimaru ran a caressing thumb along his length, raising an involuntary shudder from him. He removed his cold hand, sliding up Kira's chest till it supported his head, wrapping his other arm around Kira's waist he rolled them over, Kira straddling him. He dragged Kira's head down to his mouth, and whispered in his ear, "Now show me what you can do."

Kira muffled him with a kiss; his tongue battling its way into the captain's mouth. He lingered in the kiss, taking his time before he broke away, moving, as Ichimaru had done, downwards. His mouth explored the delicate tissues of Ichimaru's neck, running his tongue over the beating veins. Kira slithered his body until he lay completely on top of Ichimaru, the thin fabric covering them did little to disguise their swollen conditions. The pressure on his groin made Ichimaru groan appreciatively, Kira gave him a shy smile and lowered his lips to Ichimaru's chest, skating his tongue over faint scars dotting the pale skin, the groan grew in volume. Angling himself, Kira slipped a hand between their bodies, pausing on the soft hair above for only a moment before reaching Ichimaru's distended phallus. The weeping member coated his exploratory hand as he rubbed along it. Ichimaru's eyes widened at the feeling, he moaned in pleasure, riding the waves that Kira's slender fingers produced. "Stop," he forced out between the crests.

"Am I doing something wrong?" a note of worry snuck into Kira's voice, he immediately retracted the hand.

"No," Ichimaru panted, "need to stop…prepare you…I don't have long before I-," He shuddered, bucking against Kira's weight, and let out a rising moan of unbridled pleasure. Kira could feel the sudden rush of wet between them before Ichimaru collapsed, breath coming in long ragged gasps.

He evened his breathing, cracking open one eye to stare at the bewildered Kira, "Dammit, Izuru, you might just be _too_ good." Kira blushed, his own unrelieved erection throbbing painfully. Ichimaru traced a languid hand along Kira's side until he cupped it through the thin material. "And you still want more," Ichimaru laughed, "Let's see what I can do with that." He squeezed his hand playfully.

"C-Captain," Kira grunted.

"Get off me, I can't do this if your laying on top of me," Ichimaru shoved Kira off him, flipping their orientations once again. Bending over Kira's waist, burying kisses in the fine hair, he removed the torn obi barely holding the hakama on Kira's slim hips. He slowly slid the garment down over Kira's limp legs, tossing it in a far corner of the room, Kira's fundoshi quickly followed. Kira lay completely naked on the mat, the light of the glass playing over his skin, golden in the sunlight. His fingers dug at the floor, seeking purchase as his heated scrotum met the cool air and as even cooler hands wrapped around him. Ichimaru bent his head, enveloping the length in his mouth. Pushing against his gag reflex he began to hum, fingers at the same time playing with what his mouth didn't cover. The combination was enough to make Kira scream. Already on the edge, the flood gates let loose in his mind, he was submerged in a tidal wave of indescribable sensation. Ichimaru swallowed the milky liquid as Kira released in his mouth. Carefully, he let go of the now limp member. Kira buckled, relaxing spread eagled on the map, limbs gleaming with sweat.

"Move over," Ichimaru poked the naked blond in the side, it produced a half-hearted wiggle, before Kira collapsed back, exhausted, into stillness. Sighing Ichimaru lay down beside him, Kira formed against him, shivering slightly. Ichimaru felt for the haori lying behind him with a free hand, the other sliding under Kira's head to pillow it. His fingers found the fabric and he spread it over both of them, the lining silken against damp skin.

Kira said something from the edge of sleep that Ichimaru didn't catch, "Hmm?"

The blonde spoke again, ""m sorry."

"For?"

"Not stoppin' when you said," Kira said sleepily.

"Get some rest and we can try it again," Ichimaru tightened his grip around Kira's waist.

"Good 'ight," Kira yawned on the edge of sleep, falling into an exhausted slumber before the sentence was finished.

Ichimaru tenderly kissed his lieutenant's hair, in sleep Kira nuzzled against the pillowing arm. Extracting his arm and drawing away from Kira's warmth, Ichimaru rolled to the edge of the mat. Pushing off the floor, he stood. Leaning down, he tucked the edges of his Captain's haori more securely around the sleeping Kira. He snagged the white haori from where it had fallen in their exertions; he shrugged it on and straightened the collar. Squint-eyed, he laughed quietly, "Izuru, you'll do whatever I want now, won't you?"

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_A/N: Encouragement or critique is appreciated. Thank you. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Pairing: **Ichimaru x Kira

**Rating: M **(Graphic sex, rape, violence, swearing)

**Length: **20,000+ (Complete)

**Update Frequency: **Weekly

**Summary: **Spanning Kira's lieutenancy from his instatement, until three years after the current story, and the relationship that develops between captain and lieutenant.

**Note 1: **The terms for the shinigami garments are pulled from http: // paperiuni. livejournal. com/ 4516. html (remove the spaces).

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any characters associated with it. The plot and original characters in Antenora Smiles I do own. **

_A/N: The latest chapter of the manga almost made me give up on this series entirely…but since there _are_ some redeeming features of _Bleach_, here is the next chapter of Smiles. For all my lovely reviewers and watchers and favers, this is for you. Enjoy._

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**Antenora Smiles**

_Four Months, Part II._

Kira woke; the first thing he registered was the fact that he was alone. The warmth of his body had faded, leaving his limbs chilled; there was no comforting solid weight at his back, sharing its heat with him. The angle of the light had changed, slanting from low in the heavens, leaving the room in shadow. The twisted glass shapes cast long, unfamiliar silhouettes on the wall. Kira closed his eyes, and in comforting darkness explored the new emotions twining through his heart in strange patterns.

Ichimaru's actions ran contrary to everything Kira knew of the man. Previously he acted, at best, possessive of Kira, at worst, cruel. Their interactions were tinged with a dark taint that made Kira's stomach twist when he revisited the memories. This, however, had been completely different. It scared him, he understood the pain and the pleasure, but the gentleness which Ichimaru had treated him with, that was another story. Never had he let Kira reciprocate, their exchanges had been one sided, Ichimaru's skillful hands bringing Kira to climax and invariably he left while Kira still lay panting on the floor.

Light footsteps alerted him to the other man's presence in the room. He continued the illusion of sleep, a thin barrier between his uncertain mind and the world. A wave of displaced air washed over him as Ichimaru settled, close but not touching Kira. "I know you're awake, Izuru."

Kira stiffened, unsure. A whisper of fear brushed, feather light, his heart, the pain and humiliation were surely soon to come. A long fingered hand pressed itself over his beating heart. Ichimaru spoke slowly, quietly, "Are you still afraid of me?"

"I-," Kira faltered, swallowing without opening his eyes as heat spread outward from the hand, "-don't know."

Another hand slid under his chin, tilting his head upward. Kira's eyes fluttered wide, above him Ichimaru leaned, white hair hanging to frame the thin face. The sardonic smile hovered over him. Ichimaru pursed his lips, "I think I need to give you more proof, don't I?"

"I-"

"Shh," he whispered, stroking his thumb over Kira's lips. Ichimaru released Kira's chin, trailing fingers brushed away Kira's long bangs, "you don't need to answer."

Kira's hand captured Ichimaru's; turning his head, he kissed the palm, warm lips against the cool skin. He sat up halfway, supporting himself on an elbow, Kira's mouth traveled up the inside of Ichimaru's arm, planting butterfly kisses on the smooth surface. The hand on his chest pushed him back down to the mat, the heart underneath fluttering wildly. Ichimaru lowered himself, pinning Kira beneath his weight, long limbs winding against Kira's naked body. "Now, you're mine, lieutenant," Ichimaru commanded, mocking smile mitigating none of authority of his tone, "Understood?"

Kira fell back on comforting patterns, stiffening under Ichimaru. "Captain?"

"Do you understand?"

Ichimaru's body pressed heavily on Kira's chest, making drawing a breath difficult. Kira felt his limbs grow cold and start to shake; this was it, the humiliation, the pain. He forced words through a constricted throat, "Y-You are my c-captain."

"That doesn't mean anything, Izuru," Ichimaru's voice softened.

"You are my captain!" Kira repeated desperately. It was all he could say; his life, his loyalty, they were all Ichimaru's, without reservation to play with as he willed. Kira didn't know what more he could give.

"You don't get it, do you?" Ichimaru said, irritation creeping into his speech for the first time. He roughly wrenched Kira's hands above his head and pinned them with a casual arm.

"No," Kira pushed at Ichimaru's restraining arm, cold sweat breaking out on his skin. "I still d-don't understand Captain."

"Stop parroting me," Ichimaru said impatiently, leaning heavily on Kira's pinioned arms, "I know you're intelligent, give me an answer."

Kira worked his mouth, but no words came out. The question hovered between them, suffocating him. He shook his head violently, feeling the tears trickling down his cheeks.

"Then I must teach you," Ichimaru released his weight with a soft sigh, "Though I did expect better from my lieutenant."

"I'm s-sorry," Kira broke down into sobs, going limp beneath his captain. Ichimaru's rough palm, calloused with years of sword play, cupped his cheek. Soft lips brushed against his forehead as Ichimaru pulled him into a tight embrace, rocking him as his sobs faded. Kira was lost; he had no idea where these new emotions were leading him. But his body burned with need, undeniable. He clung to the only solid thing in the dizzying world, Ichimaru, as the last of the sobs petered out.

"Are you ready?" Ichimaru released his embrace, letting Kira sink back to the mat. Kira could see his serious expression in the fading light of afternoon; no sardonic grin graced his lips.

"Yes, but…," Kira could feel his blush returning, he dropped his eyes in embarrassment. He was amazed he could still feel shame among the ocean of emotions that he was drowning in.

"..it's your first time with a man?" Ichimaru raised a questioning eyebrow. Cheeks burning, Kira nodded quickly. His skin felt like it was on fire. Ichimaru lips curved in wide smile, "Ah my puzzle, you get more interesting by the minute. This will be painful to start with, but I'm not…" the smile widened to inhuman proportions, "…unskilled."

Kira nodded, not trusting his faltering voice. Ichimaru raised Kira's bowed head with a long finger, bringing his lips to Kira's in a kiss, gentle but hinting at a greater passion. Kira's body, acting without conscious direction, arched up against Ichimaru's, legs wrapping around his captain. His hands sought the hoary locks, trapping Ichimaru in the kiss. A deep chuckle vibrated in Ichimaru's chest, he traced fingers along Kira's chest, leaving scratches. They journeyed lower, girding Kira's waist and pushing the eager lieutenant back down to the mat. He released Ichimaru's hair, already gasping with the need as his body continued its treachery. Ichimaru held him still with one hand as he reached for the small jar he had brought earlier with the other. Kira quieted, glancing questioningly at the small container. Ichimaru removed the cork with his teeth, tilting the jar so Kira could see the contents, a thick oily lotion. Kira felt his blush spreading to encompass his entire body.

Ichimaru traced a hand down Kira's midline, eliciting a shiver. The hand departed his skin, leaving it cold, to work the knot binding the last of Ichimaru's clothes in place. The obi parted without much effort, Ichimaru's hakama slithering to ride low around his hips. He stood, kicking off the hindering garment. Kira's eyes widened slightly, a gnarled scar stretched across just below edge of what the hakama had concealed, white against the pale skin. Ichimaru followed his gaze. "My first hollow, it disemboweled me," a feral quality came to his face, but it faded quickly, "I was eight."

Kira let his eyes travel lower, seeing for the first time Ichimaru's own length, engorged and leaking, his eyes widened further. His heart did a weird lurch, but he steadied it, meeting Ichimaru's look. "I'm ready."

He nodded his assent, kneeling between Kira's legs, long limbs folding gracefully. He placed a steadying hand on Kira's flat stomach, pressing downward to lock Kira's hips in place. He lowered his head, clever tongue playing games on Kira's chest as a cold finger, coated in the lotion, slipped inside Kira.

Kira couldn't help bucking against the sensation, he felt stretched, but Ichimaru's gentle pressure on his hips made movement impossible. He squirmed at the uncomfortable feeling. Ichimaru's restraining hand closed around Kira's erection, distracting him from the discomfort, as he rubbed against the sensitive member. A second finger joined the first and Kira let out a groan, the ache shot up his back, bordering on pain, even Ichimaru's talented hand couldn't divert his attention from the sensation. "C-captain," he grunted.

"Patience," Ichimaru muttered, leaning up to silence Kira with a muffling kiss. He pushed another finger into Kira; the pain radiated outward, causing Kira to bite down reflexively, flooding both their mouths with copper blood. Kira was beyond words, groaning incoherently into the kiss. Ichimaru twisted his hand, causing the agony to magnify, but with the pain came an aching pleasure, sparks fired behind Kira's closed eyes. The fingers slid out of Kira, leaving him hollow. The sudden cessation of feeling made him crack his eyes, Ichimaru leaned over him; hands busy covering his own erection in the oil. He bent and placed a gentle kiss on Kira's lips, "Turn over, Izuru."

Kira rolled over without comment, the motion made difficult by his throbbing body, the pain mixed with the pleasure until he could no longer distinguish one from the other. Ichimaru wrapped an arm around Kira's slim waist drawing his hips upward. Something blunt pushed at his entrance, causing him to shudder at the prospect of renewed pain. "Relax, this will be easier if you do," Ichimaru said softly.

He forced his body to go limp, supported only by Ichimaru arm. Ichimaru slowly slipped inside him, sending a renewed agony racing up his back and down his limbs. Kira screamed. Gradually the sensation faded to a steady throbbing as Ichimaru stayed motionless within him. He could hear Ichimaru's own panting, slightly out of rhythm with his own hitched breaths. Kira could feel himself relaxing around the intruding member, Ichimaru feeling the same, began to move, sliding out Kira. Something tore inside of him, blood lubricating the motion.

Ichimaru shifted slightly, increasing the pressure as he angled downward. Before Kira could react, Ichimaru thrust back into him. The pain vanished behind a nova of pleasure, exploding from deep within him. Ichimaru grunted, repeating the move. Kira could do nothing but fight for conscious under the sensation that rode him towards blissful oblivion. Ichimaru's hand, supporting Kira, changed its grip, wrapping around Kira's erect phallus. Stroking and squeezing in time with his frenzied thrusts, Ichimaru brought Kira to climax, and then propelled him beyond, plunging into rose-colored ecstasy. He screamed; this time in pleasure, as something snapped inside of him, wet spilling onto his stomach and Ichimaru's hand.

Weariness flooded through Kira's limbs, and he collapsed under his captain's weight. Ichimaru continued to move within him until he found his own release, moaning, he took it. Kira could feel the sudden rush of heat inside of his core, mixing with the exhaustion. Ichimaru, limbs shaking, subsided, falling on top of the blonde in a tangle of sweaty limbs, still enveloped in Kira. He twisted uncomfortably; Ichimaru's flaccid presence within him was overcoming the ebbing pleasure. Ichimaru tangled fingers in his damp hair, stilling the motion. He lay quiescent; he had no strength to protest. Finally, Ichimaru extracted himself from Kira, rolling off him. Kira felt a sudden flare of anxiety under the blanket of fatigue. "Stay with me."

Ichimaru's slender arm wrapped around him, "I had no intention of doing anything else." He could feel the words rumble in Ichimaru's chest where it pressed against him. Exhaustion claimed Kira, and as he drifted towards the precipice of sleep he could hear Ichimaru's heart sounding a slow steady of rhythm, matching his own.

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_F/N: Encouragement or critique is appreciated. Thank you. _


	6. Chapter 6

**Pairing: **Ichimaru x Kira

**Rating: M **(Graphic sex, rape, violence, swearing)

**Length: **20,000+ (Complete)

**Update Frequency: **Weekly

**Summary: **Spanning Kira's lieutenancy from his instatement, until three years after the current story, and the relationship that develops between captain and lieutenant.

**Note 1: **The terms for the shinigami garments are pulled from http: // paperiuni. livejournal. com/ 4516. html (remove the spaces).

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any characters associated with it. The plot and original characters in Antenora Smiles I do own. **

_A/N: Two time segments, just a heads up. This is the only stab I make at a coherent plot, more of a fetal twitch continued from a previous chapter. On another note, thank you for those who reviewed, your words mean so much, I really can't say how much. I try and respond to each and every one of you that I can. You really make my day with your wonderful words. That said, those who read _Smiles_, alerted, or faved this piece, _please tell me why_, why you like it or why you don't, a word or two would suffice. Reviews are more than just counting candy ( such and such a piece has so many reviews so it must be really good, etc.) they are the reader's chance to help the author grow as a writer. This site is not just a window shop, it is a community, one that needs interaction between both sides to flourish. I offer up this piece as one side of a conversation, please offer your reviews as the other side so I'm not just talking to empty air. Thank you for hearing me out, and if you think I'm a pompous ass asking for reviews, then please just tell me about it and I'll shut up and let you read on in peace. Without further ado I present the 6__th__ chapter. Enjoy. _

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**Antenora Smiles**

_Six Months._

"Izuru!"

He stumbled to an awkward halt, steadying himself on the wall of the corridor. Using its solid support he eased himself around, every muscle and bone making their protest known. Kira didn't look up, letting his pursuer come up beside him, panting.

Small hands felt his forehead, gently brushing aside the concealing bangs he had grown. He head a soft gasp as Momo Hinamori saw his face. "Oh Izuru, what happened to you?"

"Nothing," he removed her hands from his face, broken fingers complaining at their movement.

"I heard you got back from a patrol but no one told me you had run into hollows," her kind face was concerned.

"I didn't. I was coming through the dangai and I ran into the cleaners," Kira lied.

"Why were you in there?" Momo asked doubtfully.

Kira colored, fatigue made his excuse clumsy, "Captain Ichimaru wanted me to check out some suspicious behavior. Please Momo, I need to go, the captain wants me."

"In this state?" Cool hands cupped his face, wiping away the blood. Kira flinched reflexively. "You need to go see the 4th, you can't even fill out paperwork right now."

"The captain said he needed me," Kira protested weakly, too tired to do anything else.

Bun-topped head shook, "No, Kira. He'll understand. You need to be healed." She took his arm, leading him away from his intended path.

Fear coursed through Kira, and he jerked away from her. Last time he had been late…he shied from the memory. "Momo, I'm fine."

"You look like you haven't slept in a month, Kira," Momo looked him over worriedly, taking in his battered form, "What is Captain Ichimaru doing to you?"

"Nothing!" Kira protested fiercely. "I'm his lieutenant; I do only what he asks of me."

"Then he's asking too much. Since you've become a lieutenant, you've hardly talked to Renji or I."

"Paperwork keeps me busy," Kira moved back against the wall, supporting himself on the molding. He looked away from her face, he knew he would see disappointment there; he could never successfully lie to Hinamori. He swiftly changed the subject, hoping to distract her. "What are you doing in the 3rd's offices anyway?"

"I'm running an errand for Captain Aizen, he wants me to give some documents to Captain Ichimaru," Hinamori blushed, "Ever since our lieutenant vanished I've been filling in."

"Then you should deliver them," Kira said, fatigue creeping into his voice, he barely managed from sinking to the floor

"I was headed that way, but it can wait, we need to get you to the 4th," she held out a hand, offering her help.

"I can do it myself, I just need to check in with the captain first."

"If you insist seeing him, I'm headed that way myself," she said concerned.

Kira felt a sudden surge of panic, Hinamori couldn't discover the truth, couldn't see Ichimaru's reaction to his condition, his failure. "I'm headed to my own office first; I have to pick some things. You go on ahead."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'll see you around Momo." Using the last of his strength he pushed away from the wall and straightened, marching resolutely down the hall, away from his friend. She didn't try to follow him. Once he turned the corner, he slumped against the wall. No one could know what he and Ichimaru shared; it would destroy both of them. He cared little for his own life. It was Ichimaru's to do what he willed with, but his captain's life – he would do anything to protect it. For the time he had been the lieutenant of the 3rd, he had been lying to his friends, and lying gladly.

Body aching, he forced himself to continue walking, cradling his ruined hands. He had to get to Ichimaru and make his report before Momo got there; then he could go give in to his body's aching demands. The corridor moved past him in a blur of hazy memory. Finally he reached the door he was seeking, a nondescript sliding panel in a long hallway, Ichimaru's seldom used office. Glancing both directions, he slid it open and slipped into the dark vacant office. He hoped Ichimaru wouldn't be there, that he could postpone their meeting just a little while longer, but that was not to be the case.

"Izuru, you're late," Ichimaru rose from the chair, white hair gleaming in the half-light. "You know I hate it when you're late."

"Captain, I'm sorry," Kira knelt and bowed his head, ignoring the pain of bruised ribs and broken bones. "I was delayed."

"You're still late, that's inexcusable. Have I taught you nothing Izuru?" Kira could see Ichimaru's feet as they approached, stopping so he stood over Kira. A foot rested gently on one of his splayed hands. Slowly it pressed down, eliciting a whimper from the blonde.

"What was that?" Ichimaru asked mildly.

"Nothing, Captain," he swallowed against the pain.

"Are you saying that I haven't taught you anything?" The pressure increased.

"No!" Kira stammered, looking up with emotion filled eyes. He wished the anger would fade from Ichimaru's face. But he had disappointed his captain, he could hardly expect more than rightful anger at his failure.

The foot let up, Ichimaru sank to his knees in front of Kira. A gentle hand cradled his chin, thumb stroking Kira's bruised cheek. "I believe you."

"Captain, what did you want from me?" Kira sighed, eyes half closed in contentment. He didn't deserve this; his captain's touch was an intoxicant for his tired mind.

"Patience, Izuru," Ichimaru chuckled, "It's always business with you." He started to mutter under his breath, a low level healing kidou. The bruises under his hand faded and he turned his attention to Kira's hands. The long fingers were crooked and swollen. "Ah, what happened here?"

"The creature you sent me after was…stronger than I had anticipated," Kira muttered, coloring slightly at the memory, "It managed to rip Wabisuke from my hands before I could finish it off."

"You killed it?" Ichimaru said coldly, stopping his ministrations.

"It was attacking Karakura town, I had no choice," he protested desperately, his flesh longed for the renewed touch of those cold hands, but the horror of burned and mutilated flesh of lost souls forced its way through the need. He was his captain's, but he also had a duty to those who couldn't defend themselves.

"You disappoint me Izuru, I told you not to kill it." Ichimaru claimed his feet, slipping hands into haori, he started to pace. He started muttering softly, apparently thinking. Kira strained to catch snatches of the rapid speech but Ichimaru's voice escaped his ears, almost-words that only deepened Kira's confusion.

"Captain?"

"What Kira?" Ichimaru said pointedly, pausing to glance at him.

"That thing – it wasn't a hollow, it didn't have a mask. What was it?"

"Don't ask questions you know I won't answer." The sardonic smile mocked him. "Did anyone else see it?"

"No, I killed it before it made it into the downtown. No one else was on patrol in the area."

"Then I can forgive you for your mistake. But I warn you, next time I may not be as kind. Get up." Ichimaru offered a hand to Kira, who took it gratefully and climbed to his feet unsteadily. "Let me see your hands."

Kira held out shaking hands, palms up. Ichimaru took them between his, carefully exploring the extent of the damage. "My, my Kira, you've broken almost every bone in your left hand and three fingers on your right." He began to speak the healing kidou softly, and Kira gasped in relief as the bones realigned themselves, twisting sickeningly underneath the skin.

"Thank you Captain," Kira said with tearful eyes as the last of the pain vanished, sinking against the comforting bulk of his captain.

Ichimaru muffled the thanks in a kiss, the force of it pressing Kira to the wall. Fingers entwined into his hair and a thin arm wrapped around his waist, drawing him close to Ichimaru. Kira went limp, letting his weight drag them both down to the floor. Ichimaru ended up straddling the kneeling Kira. Practiced hands untied the knot that held Kira's obi closed. After a moment it gave way, leaving him bare-chested and shivering with anticipation. Ichimaru pulled away from the kiss, letting his tongue trace the lines of Kira's face, and then moved to his chest. Kira moaned in pleasure, hands clenching his captain's haori.

"Captain Ichimaru?"

Accompanying footsteps in the hall caused Ichimaru to slide back, pulling his clothes back into a semblance of order. "Get dressed Kira and then go. I've work to do."

Kira hurriedly gathered his clothing about him, clumsy fingers tying the knot. Without glancing at his captain, he made for the door. He didn't look up as he brushed past a startled Momo, trying to hide his burning face.

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_One Year, Part I. _

The cold was a sharp blade, cutting into Kira. Blinking, he tried to clear his eyes of the falling flakes, but it was an impossible task. The snow came down in a torrent of white, obscuring everything around him. Wind whipped up the heavy snow, swirling it around his legs like a natural trip wire. He stumbled, almost falling headlong into the nearest snow bank. Why, oh why had he been so stupid? He had let anger drive him out into the deadly conditions and now he was paying for it. His feet were solid blocks of ice, his hands little better. His thin shinakushou did little to protect against the elements.

Kira's headlong rush barred any knowledge of his surroundings, he could have been ten feet from third squad's quarters and through the snow he couldn't have known. _Stupid_. He had let Renji and Momo get to him. They didn't know anything, they were guessing, nothing more than that. But that assurance didn't stop the growing worry gnawing at his gut, his friends were far too perceptive for his comfort. How else would they know to ask those questions? And now, now because of his stupidity, they could guess with fair certainty at the answers. He almost imagined he could hear their accusing voices calling his name over the howling storm.

A sudden gust of wind ripped the breath from his throat, his heart faltered and then restarted. He couldn't survive much longer, not without shelter, but maybe it was better that way. The secret would die with him, his captain would remain safe. Ichimaru, the name sent a pang of sadness through Kira, he wished he could have at least said goodbye, it would have provided a small comfort. The cold bit at his body, slowing his steps to the faltering gait of an old man, weaving blindly through the snow. Kira could feel deadly warmth creeping into his limbs; the snow was no longer frigid about him, but a welcoming blanket. Sleep beckoned from behind the veil of the storm. Gradually Kira staggered to a halt, his breath misting before his eyes. In a cloud of snow, Kira collapsed, sinking against the warm, yielding surface. Guilt needled him. _Momo. Renji. I'm sorry_, he thought, his muddled brain barely forming the words, _I'm sorry I had to lie to you._

They would understand, Momo at the very least would, Aizen was the center of her world, just as Ichimaru was his. Ichimaru, his captain, his…love. On the edge of the endless sleep, Kira could feel it in the spluttering embers of his heart. Devotion had been burned into something far purer, he wasn't entirely sure were unconditional loyalty ended and were this new, but entirely familiar, emotion started. The transition had been gradual, a slowly creeping force working his emotions into a new framework. He almost laughed at the incredulity of it all, his captain had started this those long nights ago, and now it was ending under a blanket of creeping cold. He didn't want to die, not with this new knowledge burning in his chest. He struggled to get to his feet, but cold dulled limbs defeated any and all efforts. Will or not, this was the end. Eyes slipping closed; Kira almost didn't believe it when he saw the flickering light of a torch, muffled by the swirling snow, swam out of the storm, born by a figure whiter than the surroundings. Vision fuzzy, Kira thought he saw a face smiling mockingly down at him before he faded into unconsciousness.

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_F/N: Encouragement or critique is appreciated. Thank you. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Pairing: **Ichimaru x Kira

**Rating: M **(Graphic sex, rape, violence, swearing)

**Length: **20,000+ (Complete)

**Update Frequency: **Weekly

**Summary: **Spanning Kira's lieutenancy from his instatement, until three years after the current story, and the relationship that develops between captain and lieutenant.

**Note 1: **The terms for the shinigami garments are pulled from http: // paperiuni. livejournal. com/ 4516. html (remove the spaces).

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any characters associated with it. The plot and original characters in Antenora Smiles I do own. **

_A/N: Things get nastier in this chapter than usual, I am forced to point the accusing finger at Ichimaru. A brief note on the update schedule; Smiles is going to take a few weeks hiatus after this chapter for several reasons. The most pressing of which is I am having surgery and editing/working a computer will be beyond me for a week or two. Chapter nine is also giving me some difficulty, I am having to rewrite it from scratch, which adds into that delay. Finally, I have AP exams to focus on for the next two weeks, which means looong hours studying. I apologize for the delay, but please be patient with me, Smiles will be back eventually. On another note, my profound thanks to those who reviewed last chapter, thank you for telling me what you did/did not like about Smiles, it means the world to me. Without further ado, enjoy!_

**Antenora Smiles**

_One Year, Part II._

"Wake up."

A sharp slap to his cheek brought Kira to groggy awareness. His skin felt uncomfortably tight and stiff, as if it had shrunk while he slept. The room reeled around him, dimensions changing as he fought to orientate himself. He was wrapped tightly in a cocoon of blankets, propped up on a low futon in front of a blazing fire. The heat washed over him, too hot for him to stand, he felt as if he was roasting. Kira struggled weakly against the blankets, his limbs reluctant to respond to him, wracked by violent tremors.

"Kira stop that."

The words barely penetrated Kira's cold fogged mind, he continued to fight the coverings. He could sense the skin on his face starting to char as the heat licked at it. "T-too h-hot," he forced out.

An indeterminate form knelt in front of him, rewrapping the blankets more securely. "You need to stay warm, Izuru."

Kira recognized the voice, how could he not? "Captain?" he mumbled.

"Yes, it's me." Something warm was thrust into Kira's hands; he could smell the unmistakable scent of tea wafting from the cup. His trembling fingers nearly dropped it as he tried to raise it to his lips. Ichimaru's face came into focus as he laid his long fingered hands on top of Kira's to steady the mug. Slowly he guided the cup to Kira's cracked lips, and held it there while the blond gulped down its scalding contents. The warmth of the tea spread through his chilled core, reawakening feeling in his numb limbs in a wash of stiff pain.

"You f-found me?" he said through chattering teeth, the heat of before suddenly faded, leaving him frozen.

"Lieutenant Hinamori and Abarai Renji told me that you had gone running off into the storm. They came to me when they couldn't find you," Ichimaru said dispassionately, "And why do you think they came to me Izuru?"

Kira felt a chill, entirely unrelated to his exposure to the storm, shoot through him, "I'm sorry Captain." With his bleary eyes, Kira could see Ichimaru raise an eyebrow but remained silent. "They w-were asking me questions. I g-got angry and-and…," words failed him. "They were asking me about you," he whispered, "but I didn't tell them anything."

"But you ran out into the storm, all but telling them that their suspicions were right," Ichimaru snapped, showing uncharacteristic anger, Kira cringed from him, sinking deeper into the blankets.

"They d-don't know f-for certain," he choked out. They could guess but they had no firm proof of the relationship between Kira and Ichimaru, a secret that must be kept from all.

"No," Ichimaru sighed, sinking back on his heels, "they don't. If you weren't half dead Kira, I'd throw you back out into that storm for your stupidity."

"P-please d-don't," Kira stuttered, the cold was worse now, the heat of the tea fading from him, the blankets barely warding off the freezing air. His breath was hard to catch; he could see black flickering at the edge of his vision. He dropped the empty mug; it rolled down his enveloped form and clattered, broken, onto the floor. "I'm sorry," he croaked, dropping his eyes from Ichimaru's unsmiling face.

"For the mug? Or for what you did?" Ichimaru asked coolly.

"B-both." Kira said weakly, swaying in time with his faltering heart. Ichimaru's words seemed to be coming from the other end of a long tunnel. He lurched forward, falling after the mug towards the hard floor; Ichimaru's arms caught him, arresting his tumble. Without apparent effort he lifted Kira back onto the futon. He knelt beside the bed, bending his head to untie the knot of his obi. Kira watched, brain sluggishly processing the action, "W-what…d-doing?" he mumbled incoherently.

"You're still too cold," Ichimaru said as he divested himself of his garments. He frowned slightly, "If you died now, I'd have to break in a new lieutenant." He removed all his clothes but his fundoshi, and began peeling back the layers of blankets wrapping Kira. The blonde's cold muddled mind watched appreciatively as the fire light played over lean muscles and scars. It was a body he knew better than his own, but the mind and heart inside of it he could only catch glimpses of.

In a wave of frigid air Ichimaru slipped inside the layers with Kira, his normally cool body felt blazingly warm against Kira's own. It was almost painful as Ichimaru enfolded Kira in his arms, pulling him close. The bitter pain faded as the solid warmth at Kira's back returned him from the precipice. His vision cleared, but he was bone-tired, stiff, and sore.

They lay entwined in the wavering light of the fire, the moment captured in the orange glow, stretching on without count. Kira tried to etch every press and curve of Ichimaru's body into his memory; these were the moments that were too easily shattered. His drained mind dredged up his realization of the storm; he had thought he would never get the chance to tell Ichimaru. In this moment, trapped in a fragile bubble of time, the three words swelled to envelop his entire consciousness. He could think of nothing else. Softly, almost afraid that Ichimaru would hear him, he whispered, "I-I love you."

Ichimaru stiffened against him, pulling away. "Kira," his voice sounded strained, angry, "don't say that."

"But-" Kira shivered at the loss of warmth, cold air filled the space between them.

Ichimaru seized Kira's hair, wrenching his neck back to an unnatural angle, exposing his throat. A hand slipped around Kira's neck, squeezing dangerously. It all but cut off his air, making him gasp laboriously. "Don't _ever_ say that again," Ichimaru hissed in his ear.

Kira was too frozen to respond, too cold, too tired. He simply lay limp in Ichimaru's punishing grip, struggling to fill his lungs. He had already faced death once that night, at least this time it would at his captain's hands. He couldn't bring himself to deny what he had said; he had lied to himself, his friends, and Ichimaru for far too long. He couldn't carry the charade convincingly any longer. "-ove you-," he choked out in defiance.

Ichimaru's hand tightened spasmodically; nails digging into Kira's fair skin and completely cutting off his breath. Kira's eyes filled with silent tears, his body screamed for air, but only a broken whistling sound came from his desperate efforts. He began to thrash instinctively against his captain, fighting the man's crushing strength.

"Pathetic," Ichimaru snarled, shoving Kira away. Kira tumbled, sprawling helplessly onto the floor in a pile of shivering limbs. Ichimaru surged out of the blankets, shedding them contemptuously. He moved over to stand over the blonde, he ruthlessly pinned the wheezing Kira flat to the floor with a foot. He looked up at his captain with shining eyes; the mercurial man had shed his outward anger like the blankets. He was gazing at Kira with eyes devoid of emotion, narrowed into their characteristic squint, but he wore a pronounced scowl. Kira raised his chin rebelliously, he would not lie. He was the creature that Ichimaru had forged, conditioned to love maybe, but he still loved. He wouldn't deny that, even for Ichimaru.

"You want love Izuru," Ichimaru whispered dangerously, without ceremony he unwrapped his fundoshi, letting it drop to the floor, "then I'll give it to you." He bent down, grabbing Kira's hair; he dragged the limp blonde to the corner of the futon. Kira tried to struggle but his tired body couldn't maintain the effort, he knew with sinking certainty what was going to happen.

Seizing a castoff blanket Ichimaru used his teeth and free hand to tear long strips. Ichimaru twisted Kira hair until he had to scramble to his knees to relieve the pressure on his neck. Holding the torn strips, Ichimaru captured Kira's hands in a firm grip, in a smooth motion he turned Kira around and bound them there. He jerked the knot brutally tight, eliciting a small whimper from Kira.

"This is what you wanted," Ichimaru said coldly.

Kira gulped, he had hoped, foolishly, but still he had hoped that under that changeable exterior Ichimaru felt something for him. But he was wrong; he was nothing more than a plaything for his captain, a broken doll used for pleasure to be cast off by at the latest convenience. Yet Kira's love, though it was based on a lie, a dream, was true. He loved the man standing over him, naked, gleaming in the half-light; irrationally, passionately, he loved him. He drove the words past his bruised throat, they came out whistling and weak, "…Captain…I…love you…" It was all the defense he could offer.

"Then you will enjoy this." Ichimaru whispered venomously in his ear, biting down onto the earlobe savagely. Drawing away, Ichimaru shoved Kira onto the futon; he landed prone, whimpering as his arms were contorted strangely by their bonds. He could feel blood trickling down the side of his neck from his torn earlobe. Without mercy Ichimaru sank teeth and nails into his battered flesh as he traced the quivering muscles of Kira's back. From beside Kira, Ichimaru placed a knee in the small of Kira's back, trapping the blond as he tore Kira's lower body free of the hakama he wore. The rags fell onto the floor, little black butterflies of cloth. Naked, Kira was once again unceremoniously thrust to the ground at Ichimaru's feet. He reeled, off balance, trussed arms aching in protest.

The captain took hold of Kira's chin, forcing the blonde's face down towards his distended groin. The other hand wove into Kira's hair, holding him there. Kira hesitated, eyes looking frantically about. Ichimaru, snarling, cuffed him viciously. "Go on. If you love me, take me."

Whimpering, Kira bent his head, grasping Ichimaru's length in his mouth, his tongue working desperately. His teeth gently ghosting along the hardening member, his fear and his shame made the leaking fluids taste sour.

"Suck on it," the hoary haired captain growled, shoving his hips closer to Kira's face.

Kira did as commanding, pushing against his gag reflex. Ichimaru's shuddering hand yanked painfully on his hair as he worked down the shaft; after a moment, he tore Kira away from the swollen member, throwing him, face down, onto the floor. Ichimaru knelt, positioning himself directly behind Kira and grabbed his hips. Without preparation he took Kira, driving into him with a violent motion.

Kira screamed. There was no pleasant glossing of pleasure on this pain; it was a raw savage beast running through his veins, ramming coherent thought from his mind. Again and again Ichimaru slammed back into his body, blood serving as the lubricant. His captain made no effort to hit his prostate, no effort to make the experience a pleasurable one; it was merely a bestial satiation of desire. His frenzied panting mixed with Kira's cries. Finally, Ichimaru released inside of Kira, hot liquid mixing with the blood as he pulled out.

Voice shaking with his exertions, Ichimaru laughed hollowly, "That's love Kira. How did it feel?"

Kira shook his head weakly, that vicious coupling wasn't love. He rolled over, gazing up with tired eyes at the man standing over him. "I still…love you," he croaked. "You can f-fuck with me all you w-want…but I still l-love you."

Something inside Ichimaru seemed to change, his expression of cold indifference twisted on his face into sardonic smile. He snorted, sitting down on the futon, nudging Kira's sprawled body with a foot. "Give up your useless declaration Kira; it won't do you any good."

"Please don't hide," Kira whispered quietly, flinching away from Ichimaru. He could endure Ichimaru's cruelty, he had done so before, but if Ichimaru was smiling, he had lost any chance of reaching him.

"Hmm?" Ichimaru rotated to face Kira's downed form, eyebrows raised in question.

"Your smile…," he choked, "…you're hiding behind it."

Ichimaru tilted his head to the side, the grin shrinking to a half-smile curving on his lips, "Hiding what?"

"You," Kira said, drawing in a deep breath with difficulty.

"Trust me Kira," Ichimaru chuckled darkly, smiling, "You don't want to know the real me." He stood; bending over Kira as he loosed the ties binding him, then threw a blanket over the quivering blonde. "Get cleaned up when you feel like it; bathroom's down the hall. Then get out of my house." He turned on his heel and strode the room, still laughing softly.

Kira reached vainly after Ichimaru, his hand falling short as his exhausted body gave out. The blanket slipped off him, leaving him exposed to the cold of the room, he shivered. Curling up into a fetal ball, his body objecting to every action, he let the tears begin to fall. His heart, placed in Ichimaru's hands, had been twisted and shattered. The callous rejection of his declaration was worse than any denial. He knew now for certain, he was just a body, a receptacle for Ichimaru's lusts. But he couldn't, he wouldn't, give up his love. It was all that he had; everything else had been burned up in the pursuit of Ichimaru.

_F/N: Encouragement or critique is appreciated. Thank you. _


	8. Chapter 8

**Pairing: **Ichimaru x Kira

**Rating: M **(Graphic sex, rape, violence, swearing)

**Length: **20,000+ (Complete)

**Update Frequency: **Weekly

**Summary: **Spanning Kira's lieutenancy from his instatement, until three years after the current story, and the relationship that develops between captain and lieutenant.

**Note 1: **The terms for the shinigami garments are pulled from http: // paperiuni. livejournal. com/ 4516. html (remove the spaces).

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any characters associated with it. The plot and original characters in Antenora Smiles I do own. **

_A/N: I am picking up (hopefully) where I left off, a weekly update schedule. My surgery went well, and I would like to thank all of you who reviewed in the interim. I'll try and get back to you all at some point, I can't say how much your reviews make me smile. Not my favorite chapter, not my least favorite either, but hopefully you guys will enjoy it all regardless. As always I would love to hear from you all, if you feel so inclined. Without further ado, enjoy!_

**Antenora Smiles**

_Two Years._

Pen scratched on paper, a long endless line of writing trailed its progress on the page in a tired mockery of letters. Kira's hand had long past the stage of cramped protest to outright agony. He cast off the annoyance, the pile of papers on the left side of his desk towered over the completed pile on the right. It didn't matter that most of the squad was out on 'training exercises', which he strongly suspected was just an excuse to enjoy the beautiful spring day. It didn't matter that his hand felt ready to fall off. It didn't matter that he hadn't left his desk in twenty-four hours. At least that what he kept telling himself, a small part of him, a traitorous part, disagreed. A fleeting flash of sunlight, escaped from behind the clouds, dashed into the half opened widow and played teasingly with the curtains. Gentle spring breezes, bringing with them the smell of virgin earth, followed the sun. The wind fluttered the curtains; Kira's feeble attempt at keeping the world at bay.

He threw down the pen. Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes with a sigh. No one would expect him to work on a day like this, yet he was here. His dark musty office, even with his eyes closed, felt more like a cage than anything else. It was two years now, two years since the fateful letter that had thrust him into this mess. A mess without rhyme or reason to it; two years and he was growing tired of it all. He wanted it to end. Footsteps out in the hall made him cock his head, listening; two of them, probably a two of the 3rd wondering if he wanted to join them. They stopped outside his door, and he tensed in anticipation of the knock to come.

"I still don't think we should be doing this," a light female voice protested, barely loud enough for Kira to hear.

"But Suku," another voice, male, responded, "You know he hasn't left that office since yesterday."

"It's not our place," the one called Suku said.

"Gah, you're probably right," the man's footsteps retreated away from the door. "I feel sorry for that poor bastard. Captain Ichimaru works him three times harder than rest of us."

"Resu, quiet!"

"Don't worry, he's probably asleep, he was when I dropped off the last pile of paperwork," Resu snorted.

"Still, you shouldn't call the Lieutenant that."

"Whatever you say Suku…"

Their voices faded off into the distance into an indistinct murmuring, but not before he caught a final word from the pair acknowledging another set of steps. Kira's eyes snapped open; it was the last person he wanted to face right now. Before he was even remotely ready for it, the paneled door slid open, creaking with its own protest.

"Sunlight, warm weather, and where do I find you?" Ichimaru asked with smile in his voice.

Kira didn't turn around, keeping his relaxed posture, though on the inside a growing tenseness made if difficult to maintain the façade. "Captain," he acknowledged civilly. Warring impulses, his body and his mind, vied for control. One part of Kira wanted to throw himself at his captain's feet as he normally did, seeking approval, but the other, rubbed raw by the date, insisted that he remain stubbornly still. Two years, it was time for the status quo to change, he tried to convince himself.

"That was a question, usually those warrant answers." Ichimaru came to stand directly behind him, hand resting lightly on Kira's shoulder. His touch provoked an answering fire in Kira's body.

Kira twisted in his seat to partially face Ichimaru. "Not all questions," he murmured to himself, courage not stretching to support any more volume. Ichimaru cocked his head and made a questioning noise. Not _his_ questions, Kira thought, he lived in a world of puzzle pieces, none of which fit the spot he was trying to fill. Two years had rounded the edges as he had forced them to fit, but the edges still chafed in those long midnight hours. Kira had come to accept he would never understand the forces that had put him in this position, hopelessly in love with his captain, but today. Today he was ready to find that missing piece hidden at the bottom of the box. He cleared his throat and repeated hesitantly, "Not all questions, captain."

"That again." Ichimaru sighed, releasing Kira's shoulder to scratch the back of his head; he frowned faintly, looking past Kira through the window. "Two years now, right?"

"Yeah," he sighed, the emotions and exhaustion of those years slipping into his voice. He closed his eyes, leaning back onto the edge of the desk. A small part of him hoped Ichimaru would take the hint, but the larger portion simply yearned for his captain's proximity, seeking pleasure in the small touches.

"A deal Kira." Ichimaru's hand skated over his cheek.

"Hmm?" He let his head hang, sinking into the casual touch. His body's long conditioned responses overcoming any conscious objections he might have had.

"You come with me out into the sunlight and I'll answer any question you want. Think of it as my gift to you for surviving two years." Ichimaru kissed his forehead and then backed away.

Kira cracked his eyes, hardly believing what he had heard. "What?"

But his question fell flat in the empty room, the tail of Ichimaru's haori whipped around the corner of the open door. Ichimaru had trusted to his offer to drag Kira along after him. Kira couldn't protest. This was something he wouldn't pass up, a chance to put something solid under his feet in the muddied world around him. Ichimaru knew that. Rising to his feet, Kira's bones creaked in protest, but he thrust the physical discomfort to the back of his mind. It represented such a small part of his focus; the opportunity of that single question dominated his mindscape. But what could he ask? The thought froze his forward motion and he sank back down into the chair. He hardly deserved this. Ichimaru had no reason to offer it, but yet he did.

"You coming? It's beautiful out here." Ichimaru's head poked around the corner of the door, still wearing his endless grin. Kira nodded, quickly standing; he let his efforts at detangling the situation leak from his mind. He would decide what to ask Ichimaru when he reached that path. Following his captain's retreating back, they passed through the varied darkness of hall into the brilliant light of the afternoon. It scoured the shadows from Kira, and he felt himself unconsciously straighten, shedding the weight of undone paperwork.

Ichimaru glanced back at him and chuckled, "I told you it was worth it, my Izuru."

It was worth it. A spring day flirting with the awakening summer, the air was saturated with the scents of rebirth. The sky hid coyly behind a wispy skirt of clouds that did nothing to block the bright sunlight from an overeager sun. Trees still lacked their leaves, but buds broke the unrelieved brown branches in a promise of what was to come. The ground had dried enough for scattered groups to lie on the newly green lawn rolling out from the foot of the 3rd complex down to a meandering stream. From tree to tree, birds flitted, unable to decide on a suitable perch as they exchanged the gossip of winter. Kira jogged to catch up with Ichimaru, who had set out across the wide lawn to a gazebo sheltered among a copse of trees. In summer, the gazebo was all but hidden from the buildings, making it a popular spot for convert rendezvous, but now, unveiled by leaves, it was empty. For now, Ichimaru's status as captain would serve to keep away any eavesdropping ears or curious eyes.

They passed several groups of 3rd squad members scattered on the meadow, who cried out greetings to Kira and Ichimaru. Ichimaru acknowledged them without pausing in his straight line for the gazebo. Kira fell in step behind him, staring at the white clad back that he had grown so familiar with trailing his captain across the Seireitei. Three lines enclosed within a diamond; his fingers subconsciously rose to trace the matching pattern emblazoned on his arm, he was a marked man. The lieutenant's badge suddenly felt as it had that long time ago when he had first put it on, heavy and stiff.

Ichimaru settled gracefully onto the bench at the center of the gazebo, motioning for Kira to join him. Kira ignored the bench, sinking instead to the ground at his captain's feet in a cross legged position, stretching his tired limbs with a yawn. He glanced up to find Ichimaru looking down at him with a bemused expression. Kira reached out and laid a hand on Ichimaru's knee, resting his head on the hand, he closed his eyes on the beautiful spring day, focusing internally. "Any question?"

"Except one, that one you love to ask me. If I answered that, all the fun would be gone," Ichimaru said teasingly, stroking Kira's hair as he spoke.

_Why_. Why had this all happened. The biggest puzzle piece missing from the complete picture. Kira crossed it off the list with an inaudible sigh of regret. It would have been too easy. He cast his mind about for the next question, but found none. That one word had overshadowed all the others, drowning them out with its urgency. Now that it was eliminated, Kira was at a loss. The melody of the birds filtering through his mind picked up a new timbre, the resonance of wind howling without mercy. Kira shuddered instinctively, _that_ night. The one he had both tried desperately to forget, and also etch into his memory. The night he had told Ichimaru he loved him. It was the one and only time Kira had truly seen Ichimaru stripped of all pretense of the ongoing game with him. One question bubbled out of the black depths of the memory; why had Ichimaru been so angry at him for those words?

"That night-," he hesitated, "-when you saved me from the snow storm."

"Ah, I was wondering if you'd bring that up," Ichimaru said, stilling his hand in Kira's hair.

"You said that I never should say that I loved you again. Why?"

"I'm not going to answer that."

Kira felt his heart sinking; it was too good to be true after all. He should have known Ichimaru wouldn't answer that question, he should have settled for a lesser question, but…at the same time he wanted to know. "You said any question," he insisted.

"That I did," Ichimaru said without hesitation, "but not that one."

"But-," Kira felt his brow furrow in frustration, it was so like Ichimaru to tug hope out from under his feet.

"You should've asked another question." Ichimaru's hand had started up its steady rhythm stroking Kira's hair again.

"I just want to know something about you!" Kira said with quiet desperation, clenching his fist, "You're always hiding behind that smile of yours. Please Captain, answer the damn question."

Ichimaru chortled, surprising Kira; it was a genuine expression of amusement on the part of his captain as far as Kira could tell. "My Izuru has grown up," Ichimaru said through his laughter, "Fine Kira, I'll answer your question, but..."

"But?" Kira hesitated. He felt like a thirsty man in the desert of ignorance, about to get his first cup of water in an interminably long time. Yet he couldn't ignore the fact that the cup might be laced with its own unique poison. Abruptly Kira decided, anything was better than the status quo, hadn't he decided that things had to change?

Ichimaru ignored his question, shifting his position until both hands rested on Kira's head and he bowed over the blonde. Carefully he placed a kiss in the golden locks, his own hoary hair shielding his lips as they began to move, whispering softly to Kira. "You won't like the answer. Still want to hear?" He pulled away from Kira, standing abruptly. Kira tumbled back, startled at the sudden motion. Ichimaru started to pace, slipping his hands into the sleeves of his shinakushou. He glanced at Kira, raising an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Yes," Kira responded, righting himself. It was time for the games to be over. "I still want to hear it."

"Very well. It's because those words are meaningless," Ichimaru tilted his head back, smiling mockingly at Kira. "You're a puppet, Kira, and I'm the one pulling the strings. Any affection the puppet might have for its puppeteer is only a delusion of the puppet's heart. The love you claim to have for me is a lie, something created by pulling a string here and there. "

Kira gazed at him, struggling to process the words. "That isn't true," he forced out the words before he realized what he had said. Of all the things that Ichimaru could have said, this was the one he least expected. They both knew the game they played, even if Kira was still trapped in its web. Ichimaru shouldn't be bothered by Kira's love; it was all part of the game wasn't it? Just one more thing that he could use to manipulate Kira for whatever purpose he had. But to Kira, the same love was real, no matter of what strings had created it. Regardless of what Ichimaru said, that, at least, would remain true.

Ichimaru chuckled, "Yes it is."

"No! It isn't, I-," Kira fumbled for a response to refute Ichimaru's words, to explain the truth of his feelings, but Ichimaru cut across him.

"What you feel is artificial. Give it up Izuru, your deluded heart is lying to you," he said calmly.

Kira thought he heard a hollow, bitter note in Ichimaru's words; it distracted him from his own scattered thoughts. More than ever he wished he could read his captain; this wasn't just another game, Kira instinctively knew that much. Something else was going on between them, Ichimaru was trying to affect the moves of their dance, twisting Kira heart with cruel words, but there was another layer beneath that. It was a raw feeling. Could it be that Ichimaru was letting something slip from behind his concealing smile? Kira was sure of it, but even with that knowledge he couldn't pin the emotion down.

Taking a deep breath and shoving aside his doubts, Kira took a step into dark territory. He stood, bowing his head; he grabbed Ichimaru's shoulder and spun the taller man around to face him. Looking at his trembling knees, he forced the words out from where they were lodged in his throat. "Captain, why can't you accept that I really do love you?"

Ichimaru slapped him, sending Kira stumbling back onto his knees. His face burned with the sharp pain, rubbing his cheek he glanced up at Ichimaru. He was staring at his palm, frowning as if the hand had acted without his permission. Slowly, he flexed it, letting it drop to his side, then he turned his frowning gaze to Kira. "Because continuing this charade will inevitably make you do something stupid, and I don't need to go through the trouble of replacing another lieutenant."

Kira shook his head, but didn't say anything. Deep down something didn't sit right, but he knew, with a shiver of imagined pain, that if he continued to press his luck with his captain that even the 4th division would have trouble patching him up. The opportunity to obtain any sort of truth out of the fox-like man had failed utterly. Kira only knew that, instead of being just another tool, his love was something that Ichimaru couldn't stand. It was nothing more than he knew on that night when he had first said it. It looked like it was just another mystery he had to add to his list of answered questions. Maybe one day they would be answered, but the cynical voice in his head reminded that two years had only made that list longer. Before he was tempted to make another attempt at the forbidden fruit, Kira thought, he better get out of here.

"If that's it, Captain, may I go?" Kira stood, brushing off his robes with a tired hand.

Ichimaru's aspect reversed instantly, the grin was back and underneath the lower lids, his eyes glinted mischievously – or evilly, Kira was never really sure. He scratched his head thoughtfully, tilting it at an absurd angle, surveying Kira. "No, I'm not done with you…quite yet."

Kira let out a sigh, if the devil had a smile, Ichimaru would be wearing it. Kira knew, with certainty, he wouldn't be finishing his paperwork today.

_F/N: Encouragement or critique is appreciated. Thank you. _


	9. Chapter 9

**Pairing: **Ichimaru x Kira

**Rating: M **(Graphic sex, rape, violence, swearing)

**Length: **20,000+ (Complete)

**Update Frequency: **Weekly

**Summary: **Spanning Kira's lieutenancy from his instatement, until three years after the current story, and the relationship that develops between captain and lieutenant.

**Note 1: **The terms for the shinigami garments are pulled from http: / paperiuni. livejournal. com/ 4516. html (remove the spaces).

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any characters associated with it. The plot and original characters in Antenora Smiles I do own. **

_A/N: First off I would like to apologize. I left everyone who has shown interest in this piece hanging for far too long, including the person who I originally wrote this for. I had various things that delayed the posting of this chapter, namely complications with my surgery, causing a severe lack of writing time. That said, the next chapter is done, and will be posted within the week. I apologize, and hope that I can be forgiven eventually. _

_If you notice below the time section says 'the end' but that isn't necessarily the truth. There is one more chapter after this, the second part of the interlude that opens this piece. The structure I had in mind for the fic demanded that I post that section first, which puts me in an interesting position. The ending I wrote for this piece, I wrote for myself, a resolution of an unhappy relationship that I needed so I could write scenes of Ichimaru raping Kira, causing him pain, and doing everything short of killing him. That resolution bends the characters in directions I am sure that Bleach's author never intended. If you are a fan who read this fic looking simply for as my friend calls it, 'creepy IchimaruxKira', then I would recommend this end. You are welcome to continue, but I fear you will find it unsatisfying. I hope that I have not managed to confuse anyone too unduly. As always I would love to hear from you. Without further ado, enjoy!_

* * *

**Antenora Smiles**

_The End._

The hand over his mouth woke Kira, making his heart collide with his teeth in a spasm of frenzied beating. He reached for Wabisuke even before he exited the chambers of sleep, but the zanpakutou wasn't beside him. His hand instead met empty bed, in desperation he reached up and clawed at the silencing hand, trying to gain some movement so he could retaliate. Battle honed reflexes tensed his body, he twisted, but the attacker's other hand grabbed his arm, stopping the motion by twisting it painfully over his head. Finally awake, Kira expanded his senses to try and discern anything, but his opponent was cloaking their reiatsu. The darkness of the room devoured his eyesight, making identification of the room's other occupant difficult, if not impossible, he heard their light breathing – at least he was proving somewhat difficult to corral. The hand over his mouth clamped down tighter, fingernails biting into his cheek. It was accompanied by a quiet voice, "Stop struggling Lieutenant."

The familiar voice of Ichimaru caused him to fall still instantly. Why was his captain waking him like this? The man could simply summon him at any hour, why the secrecy? True, events had recently taken on a strange quality with the announcement of the Kuchiki Rukia's arrest, but not enough to warrant this behavior. Ichimaru knew he was light sleeper; their years together had given them an intimate knowledge of each other's habits, the hand wasn't necessary, he would wake soundlessly at Ichimaru's voice.

"Are you done?" Ichimaru asked tersely. Kira nodded, and Ichimaru lifted his hand. Released, Kira bent and lit the lamp next to his bed with clumsy fingers, his heart still pounding. With the light, he could finally see Ichimaru kneeling on the edge of his bed. He was dressed in regular attire, a scarf covering his distinctive white hair; from the distance he would be indistinguishable from any other shinigami. Again the secrecy of his actions disturbed Kira. "Good, then come with me. Bring Wabisuke."

Kira wordlessly snagged his sword and a small jar from beside his bed, stowing both about his person, he followed Ichimaru out into the hall. The sounds of snoring wove a fine film of concealing noise over their footsteps. Ichimaru moved forward silently, towing Kira behind him with a light grip on the lieutenant's wrist. Finally, they exited the barracks in a swirl of dark clothing, Ichimaru looking about with a half-smile on his face. He pulled Kira close, embracing him. He relaxed into the embrace, resting his head on Ichimaru's shoulder. Kira didn't struggle as the blindfold slipped over his eyes, tied tightly by Ichimaru's deft fingers. In complete darkness he was lead through the twisting streets of the Seireitei and up a seemingly endless set of shallow steps. When Kira was convinced that they would go on forever, they halted. He reached up to undo his blindfold, but Ichimaru's grip tightened. "Not yet."

Kira's confusion found voice at last, "Why are we on Soukyoku Hill?" Even blindfolded, Kira knew that was their location, it was the only place they could be with all those steps. But the only answer to his question was a soft chuckle from Ichimaru. "Captain?"

The blindfold fell away from his eyes in a flutter of cloth, cut cleanly, revealing the scene before him. Ichimaru, devoid of the scarf, stood on the bare plain, his hair and Shinsou shining in the moonlight. The angled light sharpened his features into an almost unrecognizable mask, he was a marble statue carved by a master sculptor, inhuman, a force of nature. Captured by Ichimaru's gaze, Kira's existence narrowed to an endless night, defined by the man – the god – before him. His question faded to the back of his mind, it didn't matter now; all that mattered was serving the figure in front of him. Shinsou rose into the defensive position, Ichimaru settled into a crouch. In a dance-like move Ichimaru approached Kira, his zanpakutou weaving in intricate, hypnotic, patterns.

_I'm bleeding_. Kira thought absently, glancing down at his arm. _But why?_ Another faint line appeared beside the first, and reality began to sink in. Ichimaru was _attacking _him. Wabisuke rose instinctively to block the next blow, Kira's arms shuddered under the power of Ichimaru's strike. Why was Ichimaru, his captain, attacking? But he was given no opportunity for thought, Kira was driven into retreat under the ferocity of Ichimaru's attacks; his captain was not holding back. Ichimaru's robes flapped around him in the cool wind, a study of contrast, silver encased in black. Facing an inhumanly powerful foe, it was all Kira could do to defend his own life. Against the unleashed strength of his captain, he felt his guard begin to fail, arms tiring quickly. Shinsou snaked under Wabisuke and opened a deep gash along Kira's ribs. The ribbon of pain that snaked up his nerves to his brain was enough to jolt Kira to speech. "Why?" he drove the word between their clashing blades.

Ichimaru grinned, a trace of lunacy fluttering around the corners of his moon drenched smile. He was in his element, the heart of battle. The echo of fear Kira felt facing his captain, this was it source, the primal creature of combat that existed inside of Ichimaru. It was unrestrained by any compunctions of society, driven by the thrill of battle, the pursuit of the enemies' pain. Fear and love were one and the same on this battlefield, Kira realized, he couldn't love without the fear, nor could the fear exist without the love. Each new mark that Ichimaru carved into his flesh was a bitter reminder of that truth. 'Why' didn't matter. He fought because he loved Ichimaru, wanted to show him the truth of his love in the music of the swords. The selfsame music was Ichimaru's true tongue, unfettered by clumsy words, in the heat of the moment anything could be expressed. A flick of a wrist was a sign of defiance, a feint was a testing of barriers between the combating souls; it was all there in the dance of the swords. There was something almost sensual in Ichimaru's destruction of Kira's defenses, carefully flaying away the layers until Wabisuke dropped with a muffled thump to the ground and Shinsou hovered over Kira's panting throat. The music was over, all Kira could do now was wait for Ichimaru's response.

"Continue that level of fighting, Izuru, and you won't be able to survive," Ichimaru said simply, smiling falling away.

"Survive what?" Kira repressed a shudder, the cold certainty in Ichimaru's voice made his own death seem fated. Shinsou at his throat was unnaturally steady. Pushing his apprehension into the depths of his mind, he sought for any change in Ichimaru's face, but it was as steady as Shinsou. No hint of the outcome of their battle was betrayed there. For all that Kira could tell this had been an unusual training session in the middle of the night.

"The future," Ichimaru said as he sheathed Shinsou with a graceful movement, the inhumanity he had displayed during the battle slipping back under his normally inscrutable mask. No smile or not, he was unreadable. "Things are changing, Izuru."

"What are you talking about? Is this about Captain Kuchiki's sister's arrest?" Kira could thing of nothing else that would have provoked that statement from Ichimaru.

"No more questions, Kira," his tone was final.

The shadow of Shinsou prompted Kira to rub his throat to make sure it was still intact. The silence that fell between them was neither comfortable nor uneasy; it merely separated the two shinigami, a fact of existence. It was a wall Kira made no attempt to breech, for it wasn't of his making. _He's pulling away from me in his own way_, Kira realized, _he's not playing the games anymore._ No threat followed the statement, no play on fear, just a simple statement that brooked no argument.

Ichimaru smiled, a wide unremitting smile, behind it the caged beast rattled its bars. He closed the gap between Kira and folded him in a gentle embrace at odds with his expression. He buried his face in Kira's hair, holding the younger shinigami tightly. Kira could feel his bangs tickling against the side of Ichimaru's neck and his own face. He closed his eyes against the irritation, reveling in Ichimaru's closeness. The embrace was short, Ichimaru pulled away after only a few moments. Bending, he retrieved Wabisuke and placed it in Kira's startled hands. Touching another's zanpakutou was something only the most intimate friends and lovers usually did; it was to touch the very heart of the soul. Kira could feel Ichimaru's cold hands grasping something deep inside him before the sensation passed, though it lingered in Kira's mind. He could feel a blush rising to his cheeks, and he numbly sheathed Wabisuke.

A cold hand raised his head, and even colder lips met his own. Without coercion Kira allowed Ichimaru to deepen the kiss, tongue slipping into his mouth. His hands rose to tangle into Ichimaru's hair, relishing in its texture, moonlight made solid. The remained, lips locked, as the moon passed over them in what seemed a timeless exploration of each other. Finally Kira broke away, his lungs protesting at their lack of use. He glanced up at Ichimaru's somber face, "Here?"

"Here."

Kira's obi fell away with a twist of Ichimaru's hand; the loosened ensemble sagged about Kira, leaving him vulnerable to Ichimaru's roaming fingers. They teased and pulled at the flesh inside his shitagi, followed closely by Ichimaru's mouth. It traced the prominent line of Kira's collarbone, prompting the blonde to sinking to knees as they gave out under the taunts of pleasure. Exhausted by the battle, he could raise little defense against Ichimaru's clever hands and mouth. He was at their mercy as they sank wrapped in each other to the packed dirt. Ichimaru slid the tails of his kosode out his hakama and discarded it, immediately running his tongue along the newly exposed flesh of Kira's chest. He paid particular attention to Kira's hardened nipples, provoking a series of contented groans from the blonde. The discarded garments became their bed as Ichimaru pinned Kira underneath his long limbs. Their proximity concealed nothing about their engorged conditions. This had become a battle of an entirely different sort.

Ichimaru paused a moment to mutter a healing kidou under his breath, sealing the signs of their most recent battle, before bending to kiss Kira again. This kiss was filled with raw need; Kira could taste it in the blood that flooded his mouth as Ichimaru bit down on his tongue. The copper scent only propelled the predator to greater heights. Ichimaru growled softly and raked his nails along Kira's chest, opening new scratches there. He shivered with bliss, arching up into the contact. He was lost in the dizzying maze that Ichimaru's contact was weaving. When Ichimaru found the particularly sensitive spot on his ear, Kira moaned into the kiss.

Kira had to pull away after a few moments, pants turning the cold air around them misty. "Captain, please…" he didn't know what he was pleading for, but the dark space between them was growing larger, despite their physical closeness. Deep inside, unacknowledged, he was afraid if he didn't ask, didn't plead, that it would all be gone with the rising of the sun.

Ichimaru sat up, abruptly ending their contact; he looked away gazing out across the Seireitei with a distant, glassy expression. He was miles away. Kira reached out and grabbed Ichimaru's hand, raising it to cup his own cheek, hoping to draw Ichimaru back to him. His captain glanced down, a small smile curving on his lips, but it was only the predator glancing down at his prey possessively. Sighing, Kira turned into the hand, kissing Ichimaru's palm gently. Without breath, he mouthed 'I love you', his lips brushing against Ichimaru's cool flesh. He could not say the words aloud, but he hoped somehow, through touch, Ichimaru would understand.

"You can't ask the world for everything, Izuru, sometimes you must grab it for yourself," Ichimaru said softly, looking past Kira into the dark night. "If there is one thing I can't stand, it's someone who has the ability but not the will to accomplish their goals." He pulled his hand away from Kira and settled into a cross legged position, impervious to the cold. He idly unsheathed Shinsou, twisting the blade so the moonlight ran over its silvered metal. "I was born in the 79th District of Rukongai, the world gave me nothing, nothing but the will to fight for survival. I owe no one my existence, or my future. The choices I make are my own."

"Why are you telling me this Captain?" Kira questioned, this was not the Ichimaru he was familiar with.

Ichimaru glanced up from his examination of the zanpakuto, one of his habitual grins settling into place. "Just remember it when the time comes." He pushed Kira back down, disrobing himself with one hand, a hungry look in his half-lidded eyes.

Kira shivered, both from the cold and anticipation, and used his free hand to slide out of his own hakama. He shivered as his anatomy became exposed to the air, it was almost intolerably cold. Ichimaru's hands quickly took his mind off of his discomfort, sliding up the sensitive inside of his thigh until slender fingers were wrapped around him. With rhythmic ministrations, Ichimaru pushed him towards the thinly defined edge between pleasure and pain, the warmth of his body contrasting sharply with the far cooler environment. Kira closed his eyes in bliss, only to reopen them as Ichimaru stopped.

"Impatient, Izuru?" Ichimaru asked as he slowly undid his own obi and pulled off his hakama. Freed from the black garments, he shone silver in Kira's eyes, the god of the battlefield again. It was a rhetorical question, for he knelt a moment later, guiding Kira's legs up to his chest. A careful finger slipped inside Kira and he groaned, half in pain, half in pleasure. Over the years, Ichimaru had stood up to the boast of their first time, he was not unskilled.

"W-wait," Kira said, as a half formed memory nudged its way into his consciousness. "Check my hakama, there should be…," he faded off into silence, the rest of the sentence unneeded as Ichimaru held up the small jar he referred to. It was a habit by now to be prepared.

Ichimaru uncorked the jar with his teeth, using the viscous liquid inside to coat his own erection. Kira braced himself as Ichimaru slid inside of him, panting at the dull ache spreading up his back. It only lasted a moment before Ichimaru, bending Kira's knees closer to his chest and angling deeper, made something inside Kira explode in a rush of pleasure. Kira, gazing up at the sky, lost himself in the light of the moon, submitting his body to carnal pleasures as his mind floated free, riding the moonlight. Their gasping chests and desperately beating hearts sounded as one as they both reached their climax, tumbling together over the other side.

They fell side by side, close but not quite touching, exhausted by their exertions. Kira rolled over to rest his head on Ichimaru's chest, seeking comfort from the cool north winds meandering over their resting spot. Ichimaru wrapped his arm around Kira, pulling him close. Held in Ichimaru's embrace, Kira found it almost impossible to contemplate Ichimaru's earlier words. If things were going to change, then he would stick with his captain whatever happened, whether he would survive it or not. Fear and love, they couldn't exist without each other, and he couldn't exist without them. He couldn't exist without Ichimaru.

Ichimaru planted a kiss on Kira's forehead and then withdrew from contact. He freed his own clothing from beneath Kira and began to dress with measured movements. He wore a thin frown and Kira could see underneath the squinting lids, the scarlet orbs avoided looking at him.

Kira sighed; it had been too good to last. "Captain, where are you going?"

Ichimaru bent, tying his obi, before answering, "I have business to attend to."

He started to walk away, wind tugging at his garments and hair. Whether it was the wind blowing that brought the idea to his head or exhaustion that loosen his tongue, Kira didn't know, but it burst forth from his lips. "Why, why have you done all this?"

Ichimaru twisted to face Kira, smiling sadly, "That's for you to figure out. But ultimately, Izuru, it doesn't matter, what's done is done." He shrugged, and turned back to the edge of Soukyoku Hill. Without further hesitation, he vanished from existence as he shunpoed from his lofty perch. Kira watched him go with a sinking heart. Collapsing back on the cool earth, he turned his mind towards the future. Change was never easy, if change was indeed coming. There would be battles to fight, but there always was. He would survive to be at Ichimaru's side.

The night was cold without Ichimaru at his side, Kira suppressed a shiver. The needs of his body possessing his thoughts, he reclaimed his clothing from the ground, shrugging it on gingerly. He stood, tracing Ichimaru's steps to the edge of the cliff, and looked down at the muted lights of the Seireitei. It had never occurred to him how beautiful the heart of the spirit world was, glistening like a pearl at the center of an oyster. Far off, carried by the north wind, the happy voices of her inhabitants greeted Kira. He was at the same time, part of this world, and part of another - Ichimaru's black and silver world. He walked the knife, every moment since his vice captaincy, trying not to fall into either world completely. He knew that eventually, he would have to give one up, as the claims of the other grew too great.

He sighed, stretching his arms out to catch the wind, on it he could hear the last remnants of their battle twining with the voices of the Seireitei, for now they remained as one. As the wind shifted, coming from the south, the sounds drifted away. Kira caught the last hint of the music of the swords, and as the notes faded, he finally understood Shinsou's music; Ichimaru had been saying goodbye.

* * *

"Is it done Gin?"

Ichimaru sat down next to Aizen on the mat, watching the moonlight play in the glass ornaments overhead. "It's done," he said softly.

Aizen rose to his feet with a small half-smile, brushing off his haori. "Then let's get started."

* * *

_F/N: Encouragement or critique is appreciated. Thank you. _


	10. Chapter 10

**Pairing: **Ichimaru x Kira

**Rating: M **(Graphic sex, rape, violence, swearing)

**Length: **20,000+ (Complete)

**Update Frequency: **Weekly

**Summary: **Spanning Kira's lieutenancy from his instatement, until three years after the current story, and the relationship that develops between captain and lieutenant.

**Note 1: **The terms for the shinigami garments are pulled from http: / paperiuni. livejournal. com/ 4516. html (remove the spaces).

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any characters associated with it. The plot and original characters in Antenora Smiles I do own. **

_A/N: This is possibly the most thought over and revised section of Antenora, and now I'm not even really happy with it. That said, I still felt compelled to post it and share it with you, if merely to offer some form of closure to the story. For those of you who were satisfied with the last chapter as an ending, I would advise stopping here, for those who wanted something more, continue. Ultimately it is up to you, the reader, to make your own choice. I will say that Ichimaru and possibly Kira, descend into realms one might call out of character, but in a sense this is not entirely true, because this is the character I wrote them with all along, it is only now that the entirety of the character is being revealed. One might say it's like peeling away the skin, their actions, to reveal the heart of the matter, their motives. These are the characters as I see them - I hope I do not offend too much. _

_A biggest thank you for all those who have reviewed, favourited, alerted, or read this story. You are the people who have made this story a joy and a pleasure to post on this site. It has been one heck of a ride finishing my first complete fanfiction. Changing the status of this story from in progress, to complete, was a heady experience, and it was all thanks to you. Without further ado, I present the last chapter of _Antenora Smiles. _For the final time, Enjoy!_

_**9/6/09 - I have much to answer for, this last chapter appeared for a few hours and then vanished. Those of you who wondered where it went aren't crazy, I have much explaining to do. I thought long and hard about leaving it up, but I wanted to take it down as I tweaked it a bit. The tweaking is done, not perfect, but better. The chapter still isn't done, rather I am writing another section that goes over these events from Ichimaru Gin's POV. This sections will be the last of this story, and hopefully a stronger ending than the one below, offering more closure and explanation. Sorry of all the mess, this is a story about Ichimaru Gin afterall he tends to like to throw a spanner in the works. **_

* * *

**Antenora Smiles**

_Interlude, Part II._

Kira stood at the window, watching the empty fountain fill with dusk. Lamps burned on the edges of the courtyard, but very little of their light made it into his room. In his hands he held the leather bound book, knuckles white. Over the edges of the 3rd squad barracks the moon was rising, a giant full orb. It looked down on the Seireitei with an unreadable expression; Kira thought that it might have been sad, disapproving at the least.

Emotions had long since left him, leaving an empty void where his heart once had lived. The pain was distant now, no longer acute. Kira was almost surprised to feel a tear roll down his cheek; he thought he had shed them all long ago.

"Lieutenant Kira, it's time," a forgettable member of the squad informed him from the doorway. "They're headed up to Soukyoku Hill now."

"Thank you," he responded automatically. He heard the man walk away, no doubt to join the rest of the squad.

"Ichimaru Gin, why did you do this to me? Why did you make me love you?" he asked the night, "Why?" Turning from the window, Kira tossed the book on the low bed, and gathered up Wabisuke, sliding it home in its sheath. The question echoed openly around the empty room, mocking him. He had assumed for brief periods that he had known the answer, but time had again and again proved him wrong on all counts. He was a puppet, yes, and a plaything, but also something more. If Ichimaru had a heart, had been human, Kira would have called it distant affection, or just another part of the game. Yet Ichimaru refused to fall into any human categories, so he was left clueless. The man followed rules unto himself; he had proved it countless times to Kira. So the question was left in the night to join the empty queries of the owls, both doomed to remain unanswered.

He strode out into the courtyard and leapt into the night sky, heading for the blazing fires on top of Soukyoku Hill. In moments, he reached the edge of the plain. Head bowed, he approached the gathered squads; the entire thirteen court guard had turned out for the event. It was the final act in the war against Aizen, the execution of the last traitor to the Soul Society, Ichimaru Gin.

The chattering voices sounded happy, laughter even pierced the dark, contrasting sharply with Kira's own feelings. He sidled through the crowd, taking his place among the lieutenants and captains. They stood in a loose circle, open at one side on a path that led to the tower of penitence. In the center of a circle a black scythe stood alone, rising up from the earth like a hand of death. Kira couldn't force himself to acknowledge it, or the looks of pity that the others cast him.

A hush fell over the gathered, spreading out until it engulfed the entirety of the Seireitei and the night beyond. Four black clad figures with their faces covered escorted a fifth, clad in a simple white robe, down the open path. Ichimaru still smiled mockingly at life, proud even with bound hands and a collar around his neck. Behind the group walked a solitary man, hulking and wearing black, face also covered. His hands were empty.

Entering the circle of captains, Ichimaru surveyed the crowd. In a clear voice he spoke, "Making a celebration out of my death? I can't say I blame you."

The gathered shinigami shifted uncomfortably and the silence sank even deeper. Kira's heart fluttered at hearing the familiar voice. His eyes drank in Ichimaru's figure, trying to memorize it. Three years had not changed it much, a little leaner, but the same lines ran along the slender form. Time had not blurred Kira's memory in the slightest.

The deep voice of Captain Yamamoto charged the air, "Ichimaru Gin, the Central 46 has sentenced you to death on this night for your actions against the Soul Society. Do you have any last words?"

The four escorts forced a still smiling Ichimaru to his knees. He shrugged, unconcerned, "What do you want me to say? I'm guilty aren't I, not much else matters."

Kira felt his heart twist at the words; it was slowly splintering into small crystal fragments, which threatened to stop his veins as the shards pulsed painfully through his body. He wished Ichimaru would deny it; offer some resistance to his fate. _Why wasn't he fighting?_ Tears tracked unnoticed down his face. Helpless to stop himself he shouted, "Captain!"

For the first time, the smile froze on Ichimaru's face, looking straight ahead he said, "I'm not your captain anymore Kira."

The assembled began to mutter darkly, several of the captains looked horrified at Kira's outburst. Kira ignored them all; he broke through the circle, only to be stopped by one of the four guards. He struggled fruitlessly against the guard, all the while eyes locked on Ichimaru's face, looking for any hint there, but Ichimaru was impassive, and Kira remained unable to read him.

Ichimaru addressed Yamamoto without looking in Kira's direction, "Please excuse my former lieutenant. He must feel some responsibility for my betrayal."

"Enough!" Captain Yamamoto roared, "Lieutenant Kira, return to the circle so the execution may begin. Or I will be forced to execute you as well."

"No!" Kira stopped struggling, held securely by the black clad guard, tears pouring down his face. "You'll always be my captain!" he sobbed. Gasps rose from the ranks. The guard holding Kira shoved him backwards, away from Ichimaru. He stumbled, catching himself and drew Wabisuke, the blade gleamed in the torchlight. Madness also gleamed in his eyes; he could feel it rising from deep within him. If his captain wasn't going to fight for his life, Kira would.

Ichimaru whipped his head to gaze at Kira, smile fracturing and falling away. Red eyes were open wide. "Izuru, don't!"

"Then why – why did you make me love you?" Kira howled, clutching Wabisuke like a lifeline. The unanswered question thrummed through his blood, crying out for a solution, some answer. He couldn't think beyond it.

Everything froze; Kira only had eyes for Ichimaru, who knelt, bound on the hard earth. Pure, raw emotion etched each of their faces, and Kira could read Ichimaru's expression for the first time, a deep abiding sorrow. Ichimaru locked eyes with Kira, "So you never figured it out?"

"No."

The guard that had grappled with Kira drew his own sword, moving between Kira and Ichimaru. "Please put down your blade Lieutenant."

Kira lunged at him, wildly swinging Wabisuke. He would not loose his captain, not when he stood so close. The guard was forced back under his frenzied attack. In the background he could hear Yamamoto yell at him, "Lieutenant Kira Izuru, stop this at once!"

Kira didn't stop his attack; he was captivated by the dance of the swords before him. "You won't take him away from me!"

"Then you force me to do this," Yamamoto voice rolled over the ranks of shinigami, "Kira Izuru, I hereby declare you traitor to the Soul Society."

The four guards moved in unison, descending on the crazed blonde. He fought off the flurry of blows, releasing Wabisuke as he fought. He could see nothing beyond the net of steel, but he fought with the blade desperation forged beyond breaking. The swords of the black clad shinigami slowed as they exchanged blows, their swords grew heavier. He fought his way closer to Ichimaru. The fifth man, unnoticed, pulled the scythe from the ground. Silently he approached Kira's back, swinging the scythe to strike.

"Izuru! Behind you!" Ichimaru cried, but it was already too late, the black blade was descending, too fast for him to spin and block. Time seemed to slow, crafted into heavy molasses. Kira turned, slowly, to see the oncoming blade. Fear shone in his eyes, his mouth forming unheard words. His life was about to end and all he could do was watch the scythe descend. Ichimaru, feet away from the attacker stirred, faster than thought he moved into the path of the blade. It sank into his abdomen, tearing through organs until it exited in a spray of blood.

Kira screamed as Ichimaru crumpled, white robe turning crimson. Fury and madness receded in his eyes until crushing sorrow sent him to his knees. He refused to acknowledge the scene in front of him. Ichimaru gasped on the ground, not even trying to stem the flow of blood seeping from his ruined chest. The guards didn't press the advantage, backing to a distance. Kira crawled over to the fallen Ichimaru, pulling him up into his lap. He cradled his captain's head, sobbing. "Why?"

Ichimaru coughed weakly, fingers digging into the dirt in a spasm of pain. The sardonic smile flitted over his face, but the red eyes remained visible. "You know the reason why."

"No, Captain, I don't." Kira could feel tears' warm wetness flooding down his face; shining drops that fell on Ichimaru's pale face.

Ichimaru raised a feeble hand to Kira's cheek, cupping it in cold fingers. "Kiss me."

"Captain…," Kira questioned, anguish and confusion marring his brow.

Pain turned Ichimaru's face into a snarl, "Dammit Izuru! Kiss me!"

Kira lowered his lips to the blood stained lips of his captain. They met, one on the edge of death, the other in life, in a gentle kiss. Kira lingered, carefully memorizing the feel of the dry lips. Finally, he pulled away, silent diamonds wetting his face. "You love me."

Ichimaru smiled, a true smile, unfilled with pain or mockery. "Yes," he sighed, "I love you."

"When…?" Kira sobbed, gracelessly wiping his eyes with a hand. He couldn't finish the sentence, but Ichimaru understood.

"You were supposed to be a toy," Ichimaru stroked Kira's cheek with a bloody hand before letting it drop to his side, "but somewhere along the way I fell in love with you; the toy that refused to break no matter what I did to it."

"When I-I said I loved you…you couldn't stand it." Kira laughed, a hysterical edge to it. The truth he had sought had existed all along, only he had thought it a deluded lie of his heart. Now the puzzle was solved, but the universe in which it existed was rapidly vanishing with every beat of Ichimaru's faltering heart.

"I couldn't believe that you really loved me…after what I had done..." Ichimaru coughed, bringing up nothing but blood. His lips reformed into a red tinged smile. "…People like me aren't supposed to be loved. When you said that I - I wanted to crush those feelings that night. I thrive on spilt blood, something of creation - something like love - shouldn't be wasted on me." He paused, his breath growing weaker. Finally, when Kira thought that he had ceased altogether to breathe, he whispered in a fractured voice, "Live on...find someone who can tell you those words without death's goad…do that for me, Izuru…"

"But I-I love you." Kira repeated, hoping somehow that the worlds could anchor his captain to this world, but it was already too late. Ichimaru's eyes had slipped closed, smiling still. Kira hugged his thin body; felt the heart shudder and then stop. His captain was dead.

A thin keening escaped him; he rocked the limp body, kissing the face. Disregarding the silent onlookers he stood, Ichimaru still cradled against his chest. He could hardly see through the tears, head bowed, he spoke to no one, and to all, "I can see the horror in your eyes, the pity, and the disgust. To you Ichimaru Gin was nothing but a traitor, a man who turned his back on the Soul Society, a man who caused hundreds to die. But you only see what you want to see."

"Ichimaru Gin was a man crafted by your own hands, a true reflection of the corruption in your hearts. Yet I loved him-" Kira's voice hitched as he stared down at the slack face of the man in his arms. No one interrupted, or even moved as he continued, "I loved him despite all he was and did. I would have died for him, but it was my captain who gave his life for me." He glanced up, something indefinable burning in the window of his eyes. "Remember him. Remember the man you shaped. Let it teach you something about the darkness of your hearts. I only hope, knowing what you are, knowing what you have done, that someone can still love you as I loved him."

Deliberately he walked to the outer edge of the circle of open space, a path formed before him as the squads shuffled back, too ashamed to look at the burdened lieutenant. Tears running down his face and bearing the body of his love, Kira Izuru walked out of the annals of the Soul Society and into the night.

* * *

_F/N: Encouragement or critique is appreciated. Thank you. _


	11. Epilogue

**Pairing: **Ichimaru x Kira

**Rating: M **(Non pretty things)

**Length: **20,000+ (Complete)

**Summary: **What happens after the fact, or at least a portion of it.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any ****characters associated with it. **

_A/N: I was trying to come up with a nice way to say "I lied" but for once my thesaurus failed me. So, I lied. I'm not quite done, even though it says complete. To say that this is entirely unlike what has come before would be an understatement, but like authors, characters mature and sometimes demand weird things. I have left most of this purposely vague, so feel free to sketch in what you are looking for. Check for me after the break, I'll explain a few more things. I would love to hear from you, I might even be nudged into another one shot, the plot bunny is there __ Regardless, I hope you enjoy the epilogue to Antenora Smiles. Gryphalkon out._

* * *

**Antenora Smiles **

_Epilogue_

The motorcycle hit the semi head on. The bike crumpled under the rider and he was flung onto the windshield of the frantically swerving truck. The driver's desperate attempts to slow tossed the man from his windshield and onto the pavement. There he lay, frighteningly still.

Eventually, the truck's driver got his vehicle under control, though it required skidding across four lanes of traffic. Another two cars were taken out, their drivers tossed about like ragdolls by the truck's momentum. Air bags went off and car alarms started to blare as the vehicles began to settle on rocking suspensions.

The truck driver stumbled from his vehicle, the image of the young biker's face as he crashed playing over and over in his mind. The drivers and passengers of the other cars, at least those who could stand, pried themselves from the smoldering wreckages. The cries of pain and the tears of shock quickly followed. Fingers were pointed at the truck driver; cries of accusation, of grief, were thrown upon his deaf ears. But he stood, immobile, watching the motionless boy who still grinned at him in his mind's eye.

Eventually, cell phones were whipped out, and the emergency numbers dialed.

It took the ambulance nine minutes to reach the scene.

* * *

The doctor glanced at his patient's chart, and then back to the patient in question. The boy lay nestled in so many wires and tubes that one would be hard pressed to say where he ended and the machines began.

"I can't believe it. According to your chart, you should be dead. A fractured pelvis, collapsed lung, lacerations to countless internal organs, not to mention the double femur fracture and blood loss. Your heart stopped twice on the way here, but you clawed your way back to us. What's driving you? Why are you still alive, kid?"

The nurse looked up from the computer and upon seeing the rooms two other occupants, frowned. She was familiar with this doctor's need to talk, even if no one was around to answer his questions. The staff at the hospital said he was an escapee of the hospitals mental ward, and that he had turned out to be such a good doctor that they had never bothered to haul him back. She coughed politely. He started, as if he had not even noticed her since she had arrived fifteen minutes ago.

"Ah, I've been talking to myself again, haven't I?" He smiled at her sheepishly, a blush creeping across his pale face.

"Well, talking to him, but I doubt he'll hear you. He's so buried in the pain meds that I doubt he could hear a band marching right past his bed," she said matter-of-factly, pulling her paperwork together with a decisive tap. She made for the door, walking quickly past the doctor. Something about his blue eyes always made her feel like she was staring death in the face. She shivered as his hand closed gently on her wrist. She looked into his eyes, and behind the veil of the blue irises something ancient looked back.

"Coma patients, who have woken, report that they could hear things that people said to them. There's more to a person than flat-lining delta waves. Remember that," the serious, otherworldly expression faded from his face, replaced by his normal lopsided grin.

She shot him a nervous smile and pulled her wrist from his grasp. Wait until she told her fellow nurses about this, they would have a field day with it. The bipolar doctor had a religious bent.

As the nurse exited the room, the doctor let out a little sigh. He was always scaring them; he had no idea why when he tried to be the least reassuring, it came out melancholy and creepy. He turned his attention back to the chart in front of him, placing the problem in the back of his mind for another day. A younger him would have worried the problem to death, but his older self knew that sometimes problems could not be solved and just had to be endured. It was a lessons hard earned, and it had cost a life or two to learn.

No. He would not think about that, he had another patient, another person to save. It was his penance for not saving him. The boy in the bed groaned, and the doctor checked his morphine drip. Slowly the form on the bed dropped back into a drug induced sleep.

The doctor checked his watch, then back to the form sleeping on the bed. "I'll be back in a few hours to check on you, kid. Sleep well."

Before leaving the room, the doctor checked the chart once more, as if to appease old ghosts he could not shake.

* * *

The kid woke five days later, and the doctor was the first thing he saw. He then tried to empty the contents of his stomach on the doctor's tie, but fortunately, after five days there was nothing left to empty. The doctor quickly settled the young man back on the bed, checking to see if stitches had been torn or bones needed to be reset. Everything seemed to be in order, and the he let out a sigh of relief. The kid's – young man's – life was hanging by a thread as it was.

The man's eyes – the doctor finally admitted, that at twenty three, society would not consider his patient a kid, even if the doctor did – were glazed behind a fog of pain and drugs, but some level of clarity had settled into them. He looked like he wanted to get up and fight the first thing he saw, but had to settle with a surly glare. The trach meant he could not actually talk, but the glare carried volumes. This was a kid who knew what he was doing when he slammed his motorbike into a truck at seventy miles an hour. Right now, the only question on his mind was probably why he was still alive.

That irked the doctor, he had just spent the last five days and nights keeping the kid alive (including an emergency surgery to stem internal bleeding) and now he wanted to throw away all that work. Kids these days…

God, he was becoming old.

The doctor composed himself, and began to answer the unspoken questions.

"Yes, you're alive, despite your best efforts. You have a multitude of broken bones, lacerated organs, and you're just barely starting to recover from the blood loss. It won't be a pretty road, but you will recover."

The kid glared. Blue eyes met blue and one set looked away. At least the kid had the decency to look ashamed. The doctor hoped that was a good sign.

"What I want to know is what drove you to do it? You must have known it wouldn't be pretty. There are nicer ways to end it, but you chose the most violent, bloody end you could think of, didn't you? Then on top of that, you claw your way back to us after the fact. That takes some pretty good survival instincts, ones that must have taken a lot of pain to overcome."

The kid looked away, trying to swallow around the trach. The pain or the guilt of it made the kid's eyes water. The doctor's resolve broke. He usually tried to pull the information out of suicidal patients slowly, to drain the wound. It was as much a part of healing as setting a broken bone. But this kid was infuriating and confusing, more so than his normal patients, and he had not even spoken. First defiance, and now a pain so deep the doctor could _feel_ it just being around the kid.

"Let me tell you something, it gets better." The doctor rolled up his sleeve, and brought his arm into sight of the kid on the bed. There are scars there, lines upon lines of ugly knotted tissue. This is why they give him these cases, he speaks from experience. "I lost the one man I loved, and I tried to kill myself. But life went on around me, and somehow I got caught up in it. I promised myself that, even if I couldn't save him, I could save others." _And maybe even him next time, _the doctor finished silently.

The kid on the bed went still, and refused to meet the doctor's eyes. Sensing that the kid needed time, the doctor got up.

"I know what you're feeling now, and another person's pain is the last thing you want to hear about. You are so mired up in yourself, in those same repetitive tracks that led you here in the first place. But you need to be the one to take the first step, or else there's no point in dragging you back. There's a button under your left hand, press it when you are ready to talk."

The doctor smiled at the kid, hoping that the kid will pull through, and press that button.

* * *

The kid pressed the button the night after his trach tube came out. It has been almost a week from the accident and the kid can finally breathe on his own. The doctor arrived with pen and paper, laptop, and a glass of ice water. He was willing to listen no matter how the kid chooses to communicate. The kid selected the glass of water, and the paper. The doctor settled in for an evening of Pictionary and hoarse whispers, but the kid surprised him.

The kid took the paper, holding the pencil in a bandaged, trembling hand, and only wrote one word.

**Why**

That was a loaded word, why did the doctor save him? Why is he here now? Why everything? The doctor motioned for him to continue, but the kid just glared at him stubbornly, finger pointing at the one word.

"You have to give me more than that. Why what?"

Shaking with the effort, the kid croaked, "Why do I…feel so guilty? Why…do I feel at h-home when I'm surrounded by b-blood?"

_white, slowly soaking in red_

The doctor jumped as the images pushed to the front of his mind. He pressed on his head with a hand, as if he can physically force the memories back. No, he would not remember. Not now, not when this kid needs his help. He cannot let the madness descend. Tonight, later, he could give in, but now he had to stay focused.

"That's a question I can't answer for you. Have you done anything to make yourself feel guilty?"

The kid tried to speak but with a frustrated grunt, returned to writing scrawling words across the paper.

**Nothing. I have done nothing, but I still feel guilty. I have memories of a place where I failed someone, but nothing like that has ever **_**happened**_** to me. **

The doctor paused, shock slowly forcing his brain to work. Could it be? If he was right, the kid was incredibly lucky that he came to him, the only doctor who has any sort of knowledge of what might be going on. Other doctors might see it as repressed memories, which in a sense they were, but not of this life. The kid was a reborn soul with memories of the Soul Society, rare, but it happened. He crushed the hope in his chest with a brutal hand. There could be no way it was the soul he was looking for.

"What memories to you have associated with that guilt?" he managed to croak out, sounding almost exactly like the kid.

**Pain. Its dark. Angry faces. It's like some bad nightmare I can't shake. **

"Who are you disappointing?"

**Someone I love.**

But it was the soul he was looking for, or at least the signs all pointed in that direction. "Anything else you can remember?"

The kid was growing tired now. **Theatre, puppets, a name. **

"The name?"

The kid frowned. The doctor could tell he was turning defensive. The name though, it could give him all the answers, whether he is right, or just lost, groping in the dark for a light he will never find. "Humor me, give me a name and we can see if your memories are anything more than that." A tenuous lie, but the doctor hoped it will hold.

**Looked, nothing. Just a dream. Name's Kira – **

"-Izuru." The doctor finished.

* * *

The world crashed down around Kira's ears. He really looked at the man in the bed, blue eyes, blond hair peaking through the bandages. He looked nothing like Ichimaru, he frowned too much and his hair was a sandy blond instead of silver, but the eyes that glared back at him were unmistakable. They are no longer hid behind concealing lids and emotion prowled behind them. This was Ichimaru stripped of his defenses, left flayed to the world. No sardonic smiles or mysterious silences, this was the Ichimaru that had danced with him that night on top the world. Only this version was even rawer than that, a kid who had no idea what chased him in the dark.

The kid – Kira cannot bring himself to actually call him Ichimaru – started scribbling madly on the paper, already filled with half formed words.

**How? Never told anyone. What kind of freak? **

Kira swallowed, pushing down the tears. He reminded himself he has changed in the past fifty years, and he now has to be the strong one. "Because that's my name. And before you shut down completely, just listen to me. You can call me a freak or a monster after I am done."

The kid stopped scribbling, and put the pencil down. His hand, trembling, pulled at Kira's nametag. There an assumed name rested. The question was obvious. Kira started to talk. Kira told him of the Soul Society, the circle of rebirth, and his own place in the cycle. He avoided the stickier bits, of Aizen's rebellion and the kid's past role in that process. It made the Soul Society unnecessary villains in the execution, but the kid could only take so much. He skirted around their relationship, only touching on the professional aspect. Of the past fifty years, he told the kid nothing. That belonged only to Kira.

By the end, the kid wilted, struggling to keep his lids open, but by the look in his eyes, Kira can tell that it all makes sense. Finally, the kid's formless memories have a home. The horror in the dark has been named.

The kid makes one last effort to scribble something.

**Guilt was 'cause love. Did I love you?**

The knot formed in Kira's throat unbidden, he felt like he was the one who had the trach tube in. "Yes."

Though it must have cost the kid some amount of pain, he reached out and grabbed Kira's hand. Softly, almost inaudible above the hum of the machinery keeping him alive, the kid whispered, "I'm sorry I left you Izuru."

The palpable feeling of pain that has been rolling off the kid for the last week lessened with those simple words. He was out like a light the moment the words are uttered, but – not quite a smile – there was a definite lessening of his frown. Kira watched for a moment, then gathered his things and quietly moved to the door. There he paused, watching the kid – watching Gin – sleep. For the first time in a long time, hope shone in his future.

* * *

The next time the kid woke, he said nothing about their previous conversation. In fact, he acted as if nothing had happened. Kira started to wonder, that if in the haze of drugs and pain, if the kid even remembered it at all.

The weeks passed, nothing more was said. Kira was replaced as his doctor as his injuries healed, and the doctors that came specialized in more emotional healing. He still walked by the kid's room, but always; the kid was either asleep or talking to someone. His parents had finally arrived a week and half after the fact. They were inconsolable, apparently the kid had run away and they had been frantic with worry. Kira found it odd to watch the reborn Ichimaru Gin interact with his parents. It was the same feeling he got when those blue eyes met his. A feeling of disconnect, as if the world around them were unreal.

Three months, and the kid was released. He found Kira before he left. Kira saw him rolling his battered body across the cafeteria of the hospital and immediately sprang to help him. The kid shot him a glare that froze Kira in his tracks. The wheel chair made it to his table, a soft _thump_ as its wheel hit his chair.

"Hey," the kid's voice was still rusty, but on the way to sounding normal.

"Hey."

"I wanted to say-" the kid started but Kira held up a hand.

"Not here. We need a place where we can talk privately." Kira stood, gesturing the kid to follow him. He started to walk, but a hesitant cough stopped him.

"Uh…," the kid looked paralyzed, his face working its way deeper into a frown. "I might need some help if we're going very far."

"Sure." A faint smile appeared on Kira's face.

"Shut up."

"Sure."

* * *

They sat in the gardens, the kid pulling a part a branch of a shrub resting in his lap. It kept his hands busy and his eyes off Kira. Kira for his part was otherwise occupied. It had been a long time since he had done kido, but he felt that the need for privacy merited it. The spell would keep the sounds of their conversation from unwanted ears, such as the kid's parents.

After Kira had settled on the bench next to him, the kid finally spoke. "I wanted to say thanks. I know I still don't believe half the stuff you said to me that night, but I know it helped. Even if it's knowing that I'm not the only one that crazy, it helped."

"That's all I can hope for," Kira managed. The hope was still there, but he was starting to realize that the kid is not Ichimaru. The love may still be there, but it is buried so far that it only haunts the kid's dreams.

The kid swallowed, pushing his hair back with a hand and avoiding Kira's eyes. "I know that he, my past self, loved you. I know that those emotions are still bottled up in both of us, but with them come a whole mess of guilt and pain that I'm not ready for yet. I'm still too busy working on this life to deal with his, and from the sound of it, he's got centuries on me."

Kira nodded. He can understand, but that does not provide nearly enough comfort as his hope was ripped to shreds.

"I'm not saying that something won't ever happen. It's clear from the guilt I'm carrying for him that this is unfinished business." He sighs, and starts to pick at the bush again. "I just need time; time to sort through it all." He looks up, "And it's thanks to you I've got that time."

"I promised to try and save you then, I failed. So maybe the fates rigged it so it would work this time around," Kira shrugs, the lack of hope has left him hollow, it is almost like watching Ichimaru die again. He cannot blame the boy for wanting live his own life; life for each reborn soul should be a blank slate, else all life would be was working through the sins of the past. He should let Ichimaru live on in this life without pain, he just wished he would not have to assume it instead.

The kid smiled, surprising Kira. He has never seen that particular expression on the kid's face. It changed him. It was not the sardonic mocking smile of his previous life, but a generous open one. The smile he had always hoped to see on Ichimaru's face. The kid leaned forward and pressed his lips to Kira's, he held the sweetness there between them for a moment, and then released it. Kira collapsesd back against the bench, blushing, and the kid chuckled. "I think he wanted you to have that. Now I have to go explain to my parents why I was kissing my doctor, excuse me."

Kira muttered something, and the kid paused to catch it. At a look, Kira repeated it, "You can always plead insanity."

They both started to laugh, earning another reproachful glare from the kid's parents, who are quickly approaching along a walkway, intent on taking their fragile son from harm. He glanced at them, and then back at Kira, life back in both their eyes. "I think I just might."

* * *

The end.

* * *

_F/N: There were a few things I couldn't shoe horn in without interrupting the flow of the piece, so I'm just gonna say them here._

_On the subject of Kira. Fifty years is a long time, he's grown up essentially, or at least learned a little self reliance. He is in a gigai, which is how he is interacting and being a doctor. I would like to think that Urahara isn't the only one out there who sells them, or maybe Kira got it from him. Where it came from doesn't really matter, just that he is now living as a human. I never really figured out the age he was in his gigai, but he acts like an old man, calling everyone kid, (though I doubt he looks a day over thirty five). He was as the nurse said, a patient at the hospital, but it was there where he decided to go to medical school and help others. It was his epiphany out of the dark. He came back and was a doctor there, promising to help the people who face the same demons he did. I'm sure he also hopes he might run into Gin somehow, but that is really at the back of his mind most of the time. I based his career choice off of his small expertise in healing kido, also for some reason I don't quite see Kira as a lawyer or a crossing guard. _

_On the subject of the kid/Gin. Really, I tried to write them as two separate characters. The kid (who will never have a name) is much more open, and really just a kid (or twenty three year old man). He has no way to cope with the memories that his soul carries. He lacks Gin's certain sort of craziness to deal with it all. That destroys him, and what makes him to hop on that bike and drive it into the semi. He just knows he carries a huge amount of guilt, but he has done nothing to even merit it. Certain traces of Gin do pop through, the smile as he crashes, the puppet theatre, the why motif, the love of blood. But for the most the person who Gin was is dead. As the kid comes to grips with things, more of Gin will pop up, but it is more an amalgamation of the two forms. I envision that once things stabilize, he goes to seek out Kira, and they finally have the life they always wanted together. He is the person the Ichimaru told Kira to go find. Ironic, that it is himself in a way. _

_One long F/N later and those are my thoughts on the matter. I hope they don't seem so totally out of character now. It was my honor to write this story for you all. I hope you enjoyed it. I can't thank everyone who read, favorited and reviewed this story enough. It has meant the world for me. May you all have a wonderful 2011!_

_Sincerely,_

_Gryphalkon_


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